UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 


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THE    LIFE 


NAPOLEON  BUONAPARTE. 


BY    WILLIAM    HAZLITT. 


VOLUME    II. 


g04 

PHILADELPHIA: 
J.    B.    LIPPIXCOTT    &    CO. 


CONTENTS  OF  VOLUME  II. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

rxn. 

EXPEDITION    INTO    EGYPT — BATTLE    OP   THE    PYRAMIDS         ....  1 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE    BATTLE    OF    THE    NILE .13 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

SITUATION   OP    EGYPT .         26 

CHAPTER  XX. 

THE    BATTLES    IN    1799    IN    SYRIA .         39 

CHAPTER  XXL 

■T.   JEAN    D'ACRE    AND   ALEXANDRIA 61 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE   EIGHTEENTH   OF    BRUMAlRE 63 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

PROVISIONAL   CONSULS 97 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE    CONSULATE 114 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

OIFFEUENT    POLITICAL    PROJECTS   AGITATED   IN    THB    COUNCIL   OP    STAT*     .      130 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

COLONIES — ADOPTION,  tC. 146 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

flUT   SUGGESTION    OP    THS    CONCORDAT  i  .  t       157 


vi  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   XXVIII.  page 

MARENGO 169 

CHAPTER   XXIX. 

THE    INFERNAL    MACHINE 192 

CHAPTER   XXX. 

PEACE    OP    AMIENS 200 

CHAPTER    XXXI. 

RUPTURE    OF    THE    PEACE    OF    AMIENS 231 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

PREPARATIONS    TO    INVADE    ENGLAND 253 

CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

CONSPIRACY    OF    GEORGES,    PICHEGRU,    AND    OTHERS 268 

CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

THE    ESTABLISHMENT    OF    THE    EMPIRE 296 

CHAPTER   XXXV. 

BATTLE    OF    AUSTERLITZ 314 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

THE    TREATY    OF    PRESBURG  .........      333 

CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

BATTLE    OF    JENA    AND    ENTRANCE    INTO    BERLIN  ......      351 

CHAPTER   XXXVIII. 

BATTLES    OF    EYLAU    AND    FRIEDLAND,    AND    PEACE    OF    TILSIT     .  .  .      365 

CHAPTER    XXXIX. 

THE    AFIAIRS    OF    SPAIN 3S4 

CHAPTER    XL. 

THE    SAME    SUBJECT    CONTINUED 407 

CHAPTER    XLI. 
CAMPAIGN   IN    1S09 432 


THE 

LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

EXPEDITION    INTO   EGYPT — BATTLE   OF   THE   PYRAMIDS. 

Buonaparte  set  sail  for  Egypt  from  Toulon  in  the  night  of  the 
18th  of  May,  17'JS.  He  arrived  before  Malta,  and  took  possession 
of  that  place  on  the  10th  of  June,  after  doubling  Cape  Corso  and 
Cape  Bonara.  Caftarelli  seeing  the  strength  of  the  place  when 
they  entered,  observed  to  the  Commander-in-Chief,  "  It  was  well 
we  had  friends  here  to  let  us  in."  When  the  French  squadron 
left  Toulon  it  was  composed  of  thirteen  sail  of  the  line,  six  frig- 
ates, and  a  dozen  brigs,  sloops,  and  cutters.  There  was  one  ship 
(the  Orient)  of  1 20  guns  and  three  of  80.  A  fleet  of  several  hundred 
sail  accompanied  it.  The  French  squadron,  availing  itself  of  the 
number  of  light  vessels  it  possessed,  obtained  intelligence  from  a 
great  distance,  so  that  the  convoy  had  nothing  to  fear,  and  in  case 
of  falling  in  with  the  enemy,  could  easily  get  out  of  the  reach  of 
the  engagement.  Every  French  man  of  war  had  500  soldiers  on 
bxird.  with  a  company  of  land-artillery  amongst  them.  Twice 
a  day.  during  the  month  they  had  been  out  at  sea,  the  troops  had 
been  exercised  in  manoeuvring  the  guns.  The  French  army  in 
all  amounted  to  about  28,000  men.  During  a  great  part  of  the 
voyage,  the  probability  of  falling  in  with  the  English  was  the 
general  subject  of  conversation.  Nelson,  who  had  been  joined  by 
Lord  St.  Vincent's  ten  ships,  and  was  appointed  to  the  command 
of  the  squadron  that  was  on  the  look-out  for  the  French  fleet,  was 
cruising  off  Toulon  on  the  1st  of  June.     He  did  not  then  know 

VOL.  II.  2  1 


LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 


that  the  French  Admiral  had  left  that  port,  nor  did  he  learn  till  he 
arrived  at  Naples  on  the  20th  that  the  French  had  landed  their 
troops  at  Malta,  and  that  the  expedition  was  intended  for  Egypt. 
This  destination  was  the  only  one  that  had  escaped  the  English 
Government,  and  had  not  been  pointed  out  as  probable  in  their  in- 
structions to  the  admiral.  On  having  the  intelligence  of  the  cap- 
ture of  Malta  by  the  French  confirmed  to  him  at  Messina,  and 
also  hearing  that  they  were  making  for  Candia.  he  immediately 
passed  the  Faro  of  Messina,  and  made  sail  for  Alexandria,  where 
he  arrived  on  the  20th  of  June. 

The  French  squadron  received  the  first  intimation  of  the  pres- 
ence of  an  English  fleet  in  these  seas  off  Cape  Bonara.  from  a 
ship  that  i'ell  in  with  it.  and  on  the  25th  of  June,  while  recon- 
noitring the  coast  of  Candia.  it  was  joined  by  the  frigate  La  Jus- 
tice, which  had  been  cruising  off  Naples,  and  "which  brought 
positive  news  to  the  same  effect.  Napoleon  upon  this  gave  or- 
ders that,  instead  of  steering  directly  for  Alexandria,  the  squadron 
should  manoeuvre  so  as  to  make  Cape  Aza  in  Africa,  twenty-five 
leagues  to  the  west  of  Alexandria,  and  should  not  appear  before 
this  last  place  till  further  intelligence  could  be  procured  of  the 
English  fleet.  On  the  29th  of  the  same  month,  the  coast  of 
Africa  and  Cape  Aza  were  descried.  Nelson  was  just  thru  ar- 
rived before  Alexandria,  where  gaining  no  tidings  of  the  French 
squadron  he  steered  for  Alexandretta  and  from  thence  for  Rhodes, 
scoured  the  Isles  of  the  Archipelago,  touched  at  Syracuse  to 
take  in  water,  and  on  the  2~:th  of  July  anchored  off  Cape  Coron 
at  the  extremity  of  the  Morea.  where  he  was  first  informed  that 
thi.'  French  army  had  landed  in  Egypt  a  month  before. 

When  the  French  fleet  arrived  off  Alexandria,  a  violent  storm 
prevailed  ;  but  Buonaparte  learning  that  the  English  had  been 
there  only  a  short  time  before,  threw  himself  on  shore  at  the  risk 
of  being  wrecked.  At  the  very  moment  when  preparations  were 
making  fur  landing  the  troops,  the  signal  was  given  that  a  ship  ol 
war  was  seen  in  the  offing.  "  Fortune."  exclaimed  Napoleon, 
•■with  thou  forsake  me  now"'  Only  grant  me  five  day.-  1  The 
alarm  was  a  needless  one;  the  vessel  was  one  of  their  own  frig- 
ates. Buonaparte,  however,  had  the  troops  landed  in  the  course 
of  the  day;  marched  all  night;  and  at  daybreak  attacked  Alex- 


EXPEDITION    INTO    EGYPT. 


andria  with  only  3000  men,  harassed  with  fatigue,  destitute  of 
cannon,  and  almost  without  a  proper  supply  of  cartridges.  In 
live  days  he  was  master  of  liosetta  and  Damanhour,  that  is  to  say, 
had  already  obtained  a  footing  in  Egypt.  In  those  five  days,  if 
the  instructions  given  by  the  General-in-Chief  had  been  followed, 
the  French  squadron  ought  also  to  have  been  out  of  the  reach  of 
the  English  forces,  however  superior  in  numbers;  but  fate  had 
ordered  it  otherwise.  The  difference  indeed  between  Buonaparte 
and  those  who  have  been  less  the  favorites  of  Fortune  than  he 
was,  seems  to  have  been,  that  as  far  as  he  could  help  it.  he  left 
nothing  in  her  power  ;  he  seized  her  favors  with  a  bold  and  nimble 
hand,  and  allowed  not  a  moment's  interval  or  the  least  opportunity 
for  her  caprice  or  neglect.  lie  knew  the  inestimable  value  of 
time  j  and  his  sagacity  in  determining  on  the  spot  what  was  best 
to  be  done  wag  equal  to  his  rapidity  in  carrying  it  into  effect. 

Before  the  French  General  left  Alexandria  to  advance  against 
the  .Mamelukes,  he  repeated  his  orders  to  Admiral  Brueys  to  enter 
the  port,  which  could  be  done  by  lightening  the  largest  ships  (the 
small  ones  could  enter  easily;)  or  if  he  should  consider  this  im- 
possible, then  to  proceed  without  loss  of  time  to  Corfu  and  thence 
back  to  Toulon.  But  the  admiral  neglected  to  enter  the  harbor 
of  Alexandria,  where  he  would  have  been  sate  from  the  attacks 
of  the  English  fleet,  on  some  nautical  scruples,  and  lingered  on 
the  coast  in  hopes  of  hearing  of  the  arrival  of  the  Army  at  Cairo 
before  he  quitted  it  ;  thus  by  his  over  solicitude  for  their  safety, 
running  into  danger  himself,  and  taking  away  the  only  chance 
of  the  success  of  an  expedition  at  best  hazardous,  if  not  im- 
practicable. Success  in  war  or  in  every  species  oT  enterprise 
depends  less  on  seeing  what  is  fit  to  be  done  than  on  the  spirit  to 
do  it,  and  on  postponing  our  own  particular  fancies  or  feelings  in 
affairs  of  importance  ;  for  the  course  of  events  is  mechanical,  and 
goes  on  without  the  least  regard  to  what  men  hope  or  fear. 

Xapoleon,  anxious  to  strike  a  decisive  blow,  and  willing  proba- 
bly to  l'eel  his  ground  in  this  new  field  of  action  where  every 
thing  was  strange  and  uncertain,  had  no  sooner  secured  posses- 
sion of  Alexandria  than  he  left  it  on  the  7th  of  July,  and  set  out 
on  his  way  to  Grand  Cairo.  The  first  place  the  army  reached 
was.  Damanhour.  having  suffered  greatly  from  the  excessive  heat 


LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 


and  the  want  of  water  on  its  march.  On  the  10th  they  came  :o 
the  borders  of  the  Nile  at  llanmanieh  and  joined  General  Dugua's 
division,  which  had  come  by  forced  marches  by  way  of  llosetta. 
General  Desaix  had  been  attacked  by  700  or  800  Mamelukes, 
who  after  a  brisk  fire  and  the  loss  of  some  of  their  number  re- 
treated. In  the  mean  time,  the  French  General  was  informed 
that  Murad-Bey,  at  the  head  of  his  army,  composed  of  a  great 
quantity  of  cavalry,  with  eight  or  ten  gun-boats  and  several 
batteries  on  the  Nile,  was  waiting  to  intercept  their  progress  at 
the  village  of  Shebreis.  In  the  evening  of  the  12th  the  troops 
marched  forward  to  meet  him.  and  on  the  loth  at  day-break, 
came  in  sight  of  this  new  enemy.  The  French  had  but  200 
cavalry,  many  of  which  were  disabled  or  worn  out  with  fatigue; 
the  Mamelukes  presented  a  magnificent  body  of  cavalry,  covered 
with  gold  and  silver,  armed  with  the  best  London  carbines  and 
pistols  and  the  best  sabres  of  the  East,  and  mounted  on  the  finest 
horses  in  the  world. 

The  French  army  was  drawn  up  on  this  occasion,  so  that  each 
division  formed  a  square  battalion,  with  the  baggage  in  the  centre, 
and  the  artillery  placed  in  the  intervals  between  each  battalion. 
The  five  divisions  of  the  army  were  placed  en  echelon,  flanking 
each  other  and  flanked  by  two  villages  which  they  occupied. 
Admiral  Peine  with  three  gun-boats,  a  xebeck.  and  a  half-galley, 
was  to  attack  the  enemy's  flotilla.  The  action  was  obstinately 
sustained  on  both  sides.  Perre  was  wounded  by  a  cannon-ball, 
but  succeeded  in  retaking  the  gun-boats  and  half-galley  which  the 
Mamelukes  had  at  one  time  taken,  ami  in  setting  fire  to  the  Admi- 
ral's ship.  What  shows  the  singular  nature  of  the  expedition  was 
that  the  two  celebrated  naturalists.  Monge  and  Berthollet.  were  in 
the  xebeck  during  the  whole  action,  and  though  exposed  to  great 
danger,  behaved  with  admirable  coolness  and  presence  of  mind. 
While  the  conflict  was  thus  maintained  on  the  Nile,  the  cavalry 
of  the  Mamelukes  inundated  the  whole  plain,  out-flanked  the 
French  wings,  and  seeking  on  every  side  for  a  weak  point  to  ena- 
ble them  to  break  the  line  ;  but  they  found  this  every  where 
equally  formidable,  and  were  received  with  a  double  lire  from 
flank  and  front.  They  attempted  several  times  to  charge,  but 
could  not  make  up  their  minds  to  it.      A  few  of  the  bravest  came 


EXPEDITION   INTO   EGYPT. 


forward  and  skirmished;  but  were  driven  back  by  the  fire  of  the 
carbineers,  who  were  placed  in  advance  of  the  intervals  between 
the  battalions.  At  length,  after  remaining  great  part  of  the  day 
within  half-cannon  shot,  they  commenced  their  retreat  and  disap- 
peared. Their  loss  was  supposed  to  be  about  300  killed  and 
wounded. 

A  iter  this,  the  French  army  marched  for  eight  days  without 
meeting  any  interruption,  but  often  reduced  to  the  greatest  straits, 
and  in  one  of  the  most  scorching  climates  in  the  world.  During 
the  route  they  were  much  harassed  by  clouds  of  Arabs  flocking 
from  all  parts  of  the  Deserts,  and  hovering  within  a  few  hundred 
yards  of  the  camp,  with  a  view  to  intercept  the  communications, 
and  to  rob  and  murder  all  they  could  lay  hands  on.  Their  prac- 
tice was  to  lie  in  ambush  behind  the  dykes  on  their  excellent 
little  horses,  and  woe  to  him  who  straggled  a  hundred  paces  from 
the  main  column  !  They  killed  a  great  number  of  soldiers  and 
officers.  Among  others,  General  Muireur.  in  spite  of  the  remon- 
strances of  the  Guard,  would  go  alone  to  a  mount  about  two  hun- 
dred paces  from  the  camp.  Behind  it  were  three  Bedouins,  who 
assassinated  him.  His  death  was  much  lamented  by  the  army 
and  by  the  General-in-Chief.  In  the  evening  after  the  first  day's 
march,  the  troops  bivouacked  at  a  place  called  Shabur,  under 
some  fine  old  sycamores,  where  they  found  the  fields  full  of  but- 
/"■//>.  a  species  of  water-melon,  furnishing  a  wholesome  and  re- 
freshing food.  They  met  with  them  continually,  as  far  as  Cairo; 
and  the  soldier,  to  show  how  agreeable  this  fruit  was  to  him. 
named  it.  like  the  ancient  Egyptians,  the  Tiohj  lattcch.  On  the 
following  day.  the  army  began  its  march  very  late;  some  meat 
had  been  procured,  which  it  was  necessary  to  distribute  with  care 
as  it  was  a  great  luxury.  The  flotilla  still  waited  for  the  north- 
wind  to  ascend  the  Nile.  The  army  slept  at  Kounscheric  ;  ami 
arrived  the  next  day  at  Alkam,  where  General  Zayonscheck  re- 
ceived orders  to  land  on  the  opposite  bank,  and  advance  to  the 
point  of  the  Delta.  As  there  were  no  Arabs  here,  he  could  make 
what  movement-  he  pleased,  and  was  of  great  assistance  in  pro- 
curing -provisions. 

<  hi   the   17th   ami   ISth   the   army  encamped   at    Abon-Xeshabe 
and  at  Warden,  at  whirl)  last  place  the  bivouacks  were   formed  in 

1 


LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 


a  large  forest  of  palm-trees.  The  soldiers  began  by  degrees  to 
understand  the  customs  of  the  country,  and  to  dig  up  the  lentils 
and  other  pulse  which  the  peasants  are  accustomed  to  bury  in 
the  earth.  The  troops  made  short  marches  on  account  of  the 
difficulty  of  obtaining  provisions,  and  in  order  to  be  always  in  a 
condition  to  receive  the  enemy.  They  often  took  up  a  position 
by  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  the  first  care  of  the  soldier  was 
to  bathe  in  the  Nile.  From  Wardan  they  went  to  lie  at  Omedinar, 
whence  on  the  19th  they  first  perceived  the  Pyramids,  which  bor- 
der the  horizon  of  the  valley  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Nile.  They 
look  like  enormous  masses  of  rock,  but  for  the  regularity  of  the 
lines  and  angles.  All  the  telescopes  in  the  army,  Napoleon  ob- 
serves, were  instantly  levelled  at  these  the  most  ancient  monu- 
ments in  the  world.  But  why  at  once  wish  to  bring  them  close 
to  the  eye,  to  be  familiar  and  in  contact  with  them  ?  Would  it 
not  be  better  to  pause  and  linger  on  the  gulph  that  separates  us 
from  this  obscure  dream  and  mighty  wonder  of  the  world  before 
stripping  it  of  its  dim  abstraction,  and  reducing  it  to  a  literal  real- 
ity '.  One  would  think  the  mind  would  like  to  loiter  and  hang 
suspended  for  a  time  between  its  visionary  feeling,  and  its  waking 
thoughts  and  not  break  that  mysterious  spell  at  once.  Wonder 
and  fear  should  hold  curiosity  back,  and  gaze  at  a  distance  as  at 
the  giant  phantom  of  the  past.  But  no  :  the  French  think  no  ob- 
ject sacred  from  vulgar  or  scientific  impertinence,  and  they  have 
only  two  classes  of  ideas — words  and  sensible  objects;  the  world 
of  imagination  is  lost  upon  them  !  Buonaparte  might  have  fore- 
seen in  this  how  they  would  one  day  turn  round  to  look  at  him  ; 
pry  into  his  foibles  with  their  glasses,  take  his  dimensions  with 
a  quadrant,  and  fortune  having  broken  down  the  barrier  between 
them,  scan  him  with  a  critical  eve.  and  wonder  what  it  was  they 
had  ever  found  in  him  greater  than  themselves! 

The  army  was  approaching  Cairo;  and  were  informed  by  the 
country-people  that  the  Mamelukes,  combined  with  the  troops  of 
that  citv.  and  with  a  considerable  number  of  Arabs.  Janissaries, 
and  Spahis,  were  waiting  for  them  between  the  Nile  and  the  Pyra- 
mids, covering  Gizeh.  They  boasted  that  the  French  would 
there  find  the  end  of  their  journey.  The  latter  baited  a  day  at 
Omedinar.      This  pauae  was  necessary  to  get  the  army  in  readi- 


EXPEDITION    INTO   EGYPT. 


ness,  and  to  prepare  for  battle.  Melancholy  and  sadness  began 
to  take  possession  of  the  troops,  who  constantly  regretted  the  lux- 
uries of  Italy.  In  vain  had  they  been  assured  that  the  country 
was  the  most  fertile  in  the  world,  and  even  superior  to  Lonibardy ; 
how  were  they  to  be  persuaded  of  this  when  they  could  get  nei- 
ther bread  nor  wine  ?  They  often  encamped  in  immense  fields 
of  wheat;  but  there  was  neither  mill  nor  oven  to  be  found.  It 
would  be  difficult  indeed  to  find  a  more  fertile  land,  or  a  people 
more  miserable,  ignorant,  and  brutalized.  They  preferred  one 
of  the  soldier's  buttons  to  a  crown-piece;  in  the  country-places 
they  do  not  know  the  use  of  a  pair  of  scissors.  Their  houses  are 
built  of  mud,  the  whole  furniture  being  a  straw-mat  and  two  or 
three  earthen  pots!  All  their  magnificence  is  lavished  on  their 
horses  and  arms.  They  eat  or  consume  in  general  very  little. 
The  little  grain  the  natives  convert  into  flour  they  bruise  with 
stones,  although  in  some  large  villages  there  are  mills  which  are 
turned  by  oxen.  The  biscuit  which  the  French  had  brought 
from  Alexandria  had  been  long  exhausted ;  so  that  they  lived 
chiefly  on  pulse  or  parched  wheat,  or  the  cattle  which  they  caught, 
or  sometimes  by  shooting  pigeons. 

The  apprehensions  and  murmuring  of  the  soldiers  increased 
daily;  and  rose  to  such  a  pitch  that  many  of  them  said  there 
was  no  great  city  at  Cairo  ;  and  that  the  place  bearing  that  name 
was  merely  like  Damauhour,  a  large  assemblage  of  miserable 
huts.  To  such  a  state  of  despondency  had  they  reduced  them- 
selves by  complaints  and  gloomy  forebodings,  that  two  dragoons 
threw  themselves  in  a  lit  of  despair  into  the  Nile,  where  they  were 
drowned.  The  officers  even  complained  more  loudly  than  the  men, 
as  the  change  was  proportionally  disadvantageous  to  them.  The 
(Jeneral-in-Chief,  in  order  to  set  an  example,  used  to  bivouac  in 
the  midst  of  the  army  and  in  the  most  inconvenient  spots.  .No 
one  had  either  tent  or  provisions;  the  dinner  of  Napoleon  and 
his  staff  often  consisted  of  a  dish  of  lentils.  The  soldiers,  to 
while  away  the  time,  passed  the  evenings  in  political  discussions, 
questions,  and  complaints.  For  ichat  purpose  arc  we  come  here? 
said  some  of  them  ;  the  Directory  Juice  transported  us.  Cajfarelli, 
said  others,  is  the  instrument  that  has  been  mad'-  use  of  to  dec  ice 
the  General-in-Chief.      Many  of  them,   taking  notice   that  where 


LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 


ever  there  were  any  vestiges  of  antiquity  they  were  carefully 
explored,  vented  their  spleen  in  invectives  against  the  savans  or 
scientific  men.  who,  they  said,  had  started  the  idea  of  the  expe- 
dition in  order  to  make  these  idle  researches.  Jests  were 
showered  upon  them,  even  in  their  presence.  The  men  called 
an  ass  a  savant;  and  said  of  Caffarelli  Dufalga,  alluding  to  his 
wooden  ley,  lie  laughs  at  all  these  troubles  ;  he  has  one  foot  in 
France.  Put  Dufalga  and  the  men  of  science  not  long  after  re- 
gained the  esteem  of  the  army. 

They  set  forward  from  Omcdinar  on  the  21st  of  July,  at  one 
in  the  morning.  At  dawn,  for  the  first  time  since  the  action  of 
Shebreis,  a  Mameluke  vanguard  of  1000  horse  showed  itself; 
hut  it  retreated  in  good  order,  without  attempting  any  thing.  At 
ten  o'clock,  Kmbaheh  was  descried  with  the  enemy  in  line. 
Iheir  right  was  supported  on  the  Nile,  where  they  had  con- 
structed a  large  intrenched  camp,  lined  with  forty  pieces  of  can- 
non, and  defended  by  20,000  infantry,  Janissaries,  Spahis,  and 
militia  from  Cairo.  The  Mameluke  cavalry  rested  its  right  on 
this  entrenched  camp,  and  extended  its  left  towards  the  Pyra- 
mids, crossing  the  road  to  Crizeh.  There  was  about  0000  or 
10,000  horse,  as  nearly  as  could  be  guessed,  and  every  horseman 
was  attended  by  one  or  two  foot-soldiers.  Two  or  three  thousand 
Arabs  kept  aloof  to  the  extreme  left,  and  occupied  the  space 
between  the  Mamelukes  and  the  Pyramids.  These  dispositions 
were  formidable.  The  troops  did  not  know  what  sort  of  stand 
the  Janissaries  and  Spahis  of  Cairo  would  make;  but  they  knew 
and  were  impressed  with  a  full  sense  of  the  skill  and  impetuous 
bravery  of  the  Mamelukes.  The  French  army  was  drawn  up  in 
the  same  order  as  at  Shebreis,  the  left  resting  on  the  Nile,  the  right 
on  a  large  village,  where  General  Desaix  commanded,  and  whore 
it  took  him  three  hours  to  form  his  position  and  rest  a  little.  The 
intrenched  camp  of  the  enemy  was  reconnoitred,  and  it  was  found 
that  it  was  merely  sketched  out,  having  been  begun  only  three  days 
before,  and  might  be  of  some  service  against  a  charge;  of  cavalry, 
but  not  against  an  attack  by  infantry.  It  was  also  discovered  by 
the  help  of  good  telescopes,  that  their  cannon  were  not  upon  field- 
carriages,  but  were  only  great  iron  pieces,  taken  from  the  ves- 
sels and  served  bv  the  crews  of  the  flotilla.       On  this  single  oh- 


BATTLE    OF   THE    PYRAMIDS. 


servation  (casual  as  it  seems)  the  fortune  of  the  day  turned.  An 
ordinary  General  would  have  taken  it  for  granted  that  the  artil- 
lery lie  saw  was  like  any  other  artillery;  but  it  is  the  true  char- 
acteristic and  property  of  genius  to  take  nothing  fur  granted,  but, 
being  alivs  to  every  possible  change  of  circumstances,  to  look  at 
every  thing  as  it  is,  and  thus  to  be  prepared  to  make  continual 
new  discoveries  and  combinations.  No  sooner  had  the  General- 
in-Chief  satisfied  himself  that  the  artillery  was  not  moveable,  than 
it  was  clear  that  neither  it  nor  the  infantry  could  quit  the  in- 
trenched camp  ;  or  if  the  latter  should  come  out,  it  must  be  with- 
out artillery.  The  dispositions  fin-  the  battle  were  made  accord- 
ingly ;  Buonaparte  giving  immediate  orders  to  prolong  the  right 
and  to  follow  the  movement  of  that  wing  with  the  whole  army, 
thus  passing  out  of  the  range  of  the  guns  of  the  intrenched  camp, 
and  having  only  the  Mamelukes  and  the  cavalry  to  deal  with. 

Murad-Bey  saw  the  columns  put  themsleves  in  motion,  and 
quickly  guessed  their  purpose.  Though  not  accustomed  to  this 
kind  of  warfare,  nature  had  endowed  him  with  a  quick  and  dis- 
cerning eye,  and  undaunted  courage,  which  sharpens  the  sight  of 
the  mind  by  confronting  it  with  the  danger  which  it  is  not  afraid 
to  meet.  The  slight  affairs  in  which  the  French  had  hitherto 
been  engaged  with  the  Mamelukes  served  him  as  experience, 
and  he  comprehended  with  a  degree  of  skill  that  could  hardly 
have  been  expected  in  the  most  consummate  European  General, 
that  every  thing  depended  on  preventing  his  adversary  from 
accomplishing  the  movement  he  had  commenced.  He  advanced 
with  two-thirds  of  his  cavalry  (G000  or  7000.)  leaving  the  rest 
to  support  the  intrenched  camp;  and  came  up  at  the  head  of  his 
troops  with  such  rapidity  that  the  French  squares  seemed  falling 
into  confusion.  General  Desaix,  on  his  march  at  the  head  of 
his  column,  had  entered  a  grove  of  palm-trees.  However,  the 
h  ad  of  the  corps  of  Mamelukes,  which  fell  upon  him,  was  not 
numerous,  and  as  the  mass  did  not  arrive  for  some  minutes,  this 
delay  proved  sufficient.  The  squares  were  thus  perfectly 
restored,  and  received  the  charge  with  coolness.  Beynier  sup- 
p  irted  their  left.  Napoleon,  who  was  in  Dugua's  square,  imme- 
diately marched  on  the  main  body  of  the  Mamelukes,  who  were 
received  with  grape  and  a  brisk  fire  of  musquetry  ;  thirty  of  the 


10  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON. 

bravest  died  near  General  Desaix,  having  reined  their  horses 
hack  on  the  enemy  lo  throw  them  into  disorder;  hut  the  mass,  by 
an  instinct  natural  to  the  horse,  turned  round  the  squares,  and  by 
this  means  frustrated  the  attack.  In  the  midst  of  the  fire  of 
grape  and  ball,  of  the  dust,  cries,  and  smoke,  part  of  the  Mame- 
lukes regained  the  intrenched  camp,  according  to  the  natural 
impulse  of  the  soldier  to  retreat  to  the  spot  from  whence  he  set 
out.  Murad-Bey  and  the  most  expert  directed  their  flight  towards 
Gizeh  ;  and  thus  this  commander  found  himself  separated  from 
his  army.  The  divisions  of  Bon  and  Menou,  which  had  formed 
the  left,  then  advanced  on  the  intrenched  camp  ;  and  General 
Rampon  was  detached  with  two  battalions  to  occupy  a  kind  of 
di  file  between  Gizeh  and  the  camp,  to  prevent  Murad-Bey  from 
returning  to  it,  or  the  Egyptian  soldiers  from  following  him. 

The  greatest  confusion  prevailed  at  Embaheh.  The  cavalry 
had  thrown  itself  upon  the  infantry,  which,  seeing  the  .Mamelukes 
beaten,  rushed  into  tiie  jerms,  kaiks,  and  other  boats  to  repass  the 
Nile.  Many  effected  the  passage  by  swimming,  an  exercise  in 
which  the  Egyptians  excel.  The  forty  pieces  of  cannon  which 
were  to  have  defended  the  camp  did  not  fire  two  hundred  sh  it. 
The  Mamelukes,  quickly  perceiving  thai  their  retreat  was  in  the 
wrung  direction,  strove  to  regain  the  Gizeh  road,  but  were  driven 
back  by  Ramp  n's  division,  on  tiie  intrenched  camp  where  many 
of  them  tell,  and  many  more  were  drowned  in  attempting  tj  pass 
tiie  Xile.  Their  floating  bodies  carried  the  m  us  of  the  victory 
in  a  few  days  to  Rosetta,  Damietta.  and  all  along  the  banks. 
i\  it  more  than  2U0U  horses  escaped  with  Murad-Bev,  who  fnid- 
iiiLT  l/iat  he  was  net  joint  d  by  the  rest,  turin  d  hack  several 
i  j  jpen  a  passage  for  them,  hut  it  was  t  o  late.  The  loss  of  the 
enemy  on  this  day  was  r<  cloun  d  at  1U.0UU,  including  Mamelukes, 
J  missaries,  Spahis,  and  slaves  belonging  to  the  Mam  kilo  s.  Tiie 
:.  ns,    and   baggage,    ail    fi  1.    into  the  p  iwer 

Fiench,    with    a   thousand    prisoners,    and   eight  i 
cam  as  and  as  many  hors;  s.      I:  was  at  the  beginning  of  tiiis  bat- 
Lit.1  that  Xapoleoii  addressed   to   tiie    s  ldiers  that  n  )ble  apostrophe 
which    afterwards    was   so   often    cited — •■From    tin:    top  of  tlw>>; 
Pyramids  forty  centuries  loot  duica  upon  you  !'' 

h  was  niulit  when  tiie   thn  t  divisions  of  Uesaix,  llevnier,  and 


BATTLE   OF   THE  PYRAMIDS.  U 

Dugua  returned  to  Gizeh.  The  General-in-Chief  fixed  his  head- 
quarters  there,  in  Murad-Bcy's  country  house.  The  Mamelukes 
had  sixty  vessels  on  the  Nile,  conta  ning  all  their  riches.  In 
consequence  of  the  unexpected  result  of  the  battle,  they  lost  all 
hopes  of  saving  them,  and  set  them  on  fire.  During  the  whole 
night,  through  the  volumes  of  smoke  and  flame,  the  French  could 
perceive  the  forms  of  the  minarets  and  buildings  of  Cairo  and  the 
City  of  the  Dead.  These  columns  of  flame  gave  so  much  light 
that  they  could  even  see  the  Pyramids  by  it.  The  Arabs,  ac 
cording  to  their  custom  after  a  defeat,  rallied  far  from  the  field  of 
battle,  in  the  Desert  beyond  the  Pyramids.  For  several  days  the 
whole  army  was  busily  engaged  in  fishing  for  the  bodies  of  the 
Mamelukes  that  had  been  drowned  ;  their  valuable  arms,  and  the 
quantity  of  gold  they  were  accustomed  to  carry  about  them,  ren- 
dered the  soldiers  very  zealous  in  this  search.  Three,  four,  or 
five  hundred  Louis-d'ors  were  often  found  upon  them.  The 
French  flotilla  had  not  been  able  to  follow  the  movement  of  thp 
army  in  time  ;  but  they  had  heard  the  cannon,  notwithstanding 
the  north-wind,  which  now  blew  with  violence  and  carried  the 
pound  from  them.  As  it  grew  calmer,  the  noise  of  the  cannon 
became  louder  ;  so  that  at  last  it  appeared  to  have  come  nearer 
them  ;  and  the  seamen  in  the  evening  gave  the  battle  up  for  lost, 
till  the  multitude  of  bodies  which  passed  near  their  ships,  and 
which  were  all  Mamelukes,  restored  their  confidence.  The 
populace  of  Cairo,  the  vilest  in  the  world,  when  they  heard  of  the 
disasters  of  their  own  people,  set  fire  to  the  houses  of  the  Beys, 
and  committed  all  sorts  of  excesses. 

About  nine  in  the  evening  Napoleon  entered  the  country-house 
of  Murad-Bey  at  Gizeh.  It  did  not  at  all  answer  to  the  idea  of  a 
gentleman's  country-scat  in  Europe.  It  was  a  point  of  some  diffi- 
culty at  first  to  make  it  serve  for  a  lodging,  or  to  understand  the 
distribution  of  the  apartments.  But  what  chiefly  struck  the 
officers  with  surprise  was  the  great  quantity  of  cushions  and  divans 
covered  with  the  finest  damasks  and  Lyons  silks,  and  ornamented 
with  gold  fringe.  For  the  first  time  they  found  the  luxury  and 
arts  of  Europe  in  Egypt — the  cradle  of  luxury  and  arts.  Part 
of  the  night  was  spent  in  exploring  this  singular  mansion  in  every 
direction.      The  gardens  were  full  of  magnificent  trees,  but  with- 


1*  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

out  alleys,  and  not  unlike  the  gardens  in  some  of  the  nunneries 
in  Italy.  What  most  delighted  the  soldiers  (for  every  one  crowded 
to  see  the  place)  was  the  discovery  of  large  arbors  of  vines 
loaded  with  the  finest  grapes  in  the  world.  The  vintage  was 
quickly  over.  The  two  divisions  of  Bon  and  Menou,  that  had  re- 
mained behind  in  the  intrenched  camp,  were  equally  well  off. 
Amongst  the  baggage  taken,  had  been  found  a  great  number  of 
canteens  full  of  preserves,  pots  of  confectionary,  and  sweetmeats. 
Carpets,  porcelain,  vases  of  perfumes,  and  a  multitude  of  little 
elegancies  used  by  the  Mamelukes,  every  moment  raised  tho 
curiosity  or  tempted  the  cupidity  of  the  army,  who  now  began  to 
be  reconciled  to  Egypt,  and  to  believe  at  last  that  Cairo  was  not 
like  Damanhour.  It  was  only  the  cour.try-places  that  were  poor 
and  oppressed  ;  in  proportion  to  the  general  poverty  and  oppres- 
sion of  the  people,  the  towns  and  habitations  of  those  who  op- 
pressed them  and  drained  them  of  every  necessary  or  comfort, 
were  stored  with  every  luxury  and  delicacy. 

The  next  morning  at  day-break,  Napoleon  proceeded  to  the 
river,  and  seizing  some  boats,  made  General  Vial  pass  over  to  the 
Isle  of  Rhoda,  which  was  taken  after  a  few  musket-shots.  There 
was  nothing  farther  to  separate  the  army  from  Boulac  and  Old 
Cairo  but  a  large  canal.  The'  flotilla  was  impatiently  expected, 
as  the  wind  was  fair;  but  it  had  run  aground,  owing  to  the  low. 
ness  of  the  water.  This  gave  the  General-in-Chief  some  uneasi- 
ness, as  it  was  necessary  to  take  Cairo  in  the  first  moment  of  the 
enemy's  stupor  and  surprise.  It  was  lucky  that  the  Janissaries 
of  Cairo,  who  had  been  engaged  in  the  battle,  had  returned  in  the 
greatest  consternation  and  represented  the  French  in  a  light  ap- 
proaching  to  the  marvellous.  A  dragoman  was  sent  to  the  Pacha 
and  Cadi-Scheik,  with  the  proposals  of  the  General-in-Chief  and 
his  printed  declaration  that  he  did  not  make  war  upon  the  Turks, 
but  only  on  the  Mamelukes.  The  Pacha  had  already  left  the 
place,  but  his  secretary  came  and  had  a  conference  with  the 
French  General,  who  engaged  him  to  persuade  Ibrahim-Bey  to 
retire  and  the  people  of  Cairo  to  submit.  The  following  morning 
it  deputation  of  the  Seheiks  of  Cairo  came  to  Gizeh,  and  brought 
word  that  Ibrahim-Bey  h;id  already  left  the  city,  and  was  gone 
10  encamp  at   Birki  fel-hadji  ;    that   the   Janissaries    had  wished  tn 


BATTLE  OF  THE  PYRAMIDS.  18 

surrender;  and  that  the  Iman  of  the  Grand  Mosque  of  Jemilazai 
had  been  charged  to  treat  for  a  surrender  and  to  implore  the 
clemency  of  the  victor.  The  deputies  remained  several  hours  at 
Gizch,  where  every  thing  was  done  to  conciliate  them.  The 
next  day  General  Dupuy  went  to  Cairo  and  took  possession  of  the 
citadel.  The  troops  passed  the  canal  and  occupied  Old  Cairo  and 
Boulac.  The  General-in-Chief  made  his  entrance  into  Cairo  on 
the  26th  of  July,  at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  He  went  to 
lodge  in  the  Square  of  El-Bekir,  at  the  house  of  Elphi-Bey, 
whither  he  removed  his  head-quarters.  This  house  was  situated 
at  one  of  the  extremities  of  the  town,  and  the  garden  communi- 
cated with  the  country. 

Cairo  is  situated  half  a  league  from  the  Nile.  Old  Cairo  and 
Boulac  are  its  ports.  A  canal  which  crosses  the  city  is  usually 
dry,  but  fills  during  the  inundation  of  the  Nile,  when  the  dyke  is 
cut.  Cairo  is  commanded  by  a  citadel  placed  on  a  hill,  which 
overlooks  the  whole  city,  and  is  separated  from  the  Mokattam  by 
a  valley.  An  aqueduct,  which  is  a  remarkable  work,  supplies 
the  citadel  with  water.  The  citadel  also  draws  water  from 
Joseph's  Well,  but  it  is  not  so  good  as  that  of  the  Nile.  This 
fortress  was  neglected  and  falling  to  ruins,  as  well  as  the  walls, 
which  were  built  by  the  Arabs  and  surmounted  by  enormous 
towers.  The  Mamelukes  never  repaired  any  thing.  Half  the 
walls  abut  on  the  Desert,  so  that  dry  sands  are  met  with  on  going 
out  by  the  Suez  gate  or  those  which  are  towards  Arabia.  Cairo 
contains  about  210,000  inhabitants.  The  streets  are  built  very 
high  and  narrow,  in  order  to  obtain  shelter  from  the  sun.  The 
Boys  have  very  fine  palaces  in  the  Oriental  style.  The  Okels 
are  great  square  buildings  for  merchandise,  with  large  innei 
courts,  and  with  little  shops  of  ten  or  twelve  feet  square  on  tin1 
outside  or  next  the  street,  in  which  the  merchant  sits  with  samples 
of  his  goods.  Cairo  contains  a  number  of  mosques,  intended 
chiefly  for  the  accommodation  of  pilgrims,  who  sleep  in  them  : 
amongst  these  is  Jemilazar,  said  to  bo  the  largest  mosque  in  the 
East.  In  one  quarter  are  a  few  European  families,  and  some 
convents  for  the  Syrian  Catholics.  The  town  abounds  in  coffee- 
houses, in  which  the  inhabitants  meet  to  take  coffee,  sherbet,  and 
opium,  and  confer  on  public  affairs.      Around  the  city,  as  well  as 

2 


14  LIFh   OF   NAPOLEON 


near  Alcxanana,  Rosetta,  &c,  are  to  be  seen  great  mounds  of 
earth  and  ruins,  which  have  a  disagreeable  effect,  and  are  daily 
increasing,  because  all  the  rubbish  from  the  city  is  brought 
thither.  The  French  wished  to  remove  this  nuisance  :  but  diffi 
culties  arose,  as  experience  had  convinced  the  people  that  it  \va? 
dangerous  to  throw  this  rubbish  into  the  Nile,  where  it  eitnef 
stopped  up  the  canals  or  was  spread  over  the  country  by  the  flood. 
Close  to  the  city  of  Cairo,  towards  the  Desert,  is  the  City  of  the 
Dead,  which  is  larger  than  Cai.ro  itself:  it  is  here  that  every 
family  has  its  place  of  burial.  A  multitude  of  mosques,  tombs, 
minarets,  and  domes  keep  up  the  memory  of  distinguished  per- 
sons  who  have  been  buried  here,  and  who  have  had  them  built 
for  this  purpose.  There  are  attendants  to  many  of  the  tombs, 
who  keep  lamps  burning  in  them  and  show  the  interior  to  the 
curious.  Somehow  there  is  a  cadaverous  air  that  in  general 
hovers  over  the  East  ;  decay  and  desolation  have  piled  up  their 
stateliest  monuments  there  ;  Death  lurks  close  by  Life  ;  and  tli6y 
treat  the.  living;  bodies  of  men  as  no  better  than  lifeless  ca^case^' 


THE    RATTLE    OF    THE   NILE.  IS 


CHAPTER    XVIII 


THE    BATTLE    OF    THE    A'lLE. 


The  celebrated  battle  of  the  Xile,  or  naval  battle  of  Aboukir  as 
the  French  call  it,  took  place  on  the  1st  and  2d  of  August,  1798. 
This  cut  the  nerves  of  the  expedition,  and  from  that  time  it  halted 
and  in  the  end  fell  to  the  ground.  The  English  Government  had 
been  completely  deceived  as  to  the  project  of  the  expedition  to 
Egypt.  Nelson  had  not  the  smallest  idea  of  the  destination  of  the 
French  fleet ;  nor  was  it  till  he  had  been  repeatedly  thrown  out 
in  the  pursuit,  and  had  coursed  up  and  down  the  Mediterranean 
several  times,  like  a  hound  at  fault,  that  he  at  last  got  scent  of 
his  prey. 

After  the  action  of  Rahmanieh,  the  Arabs  of  Bahire  intercepted 
all  communication  between  Alexandria  and  the  French  army  ; 
nor  did  they  desist  till  the  news  of  the  battle  of  the  Pyramids  and 
the  taking  of  Cairo  made  them  apprehensive  of  the  resentment  of 
the  French.  It  was  not  till  the  second  day  after  his  entrance  into 
Cairo  (July  27)  that  Napoleon  received  for  the  first  time  dis- 
patches from  Alexandria  with  Admiral  Brueys's  correspondence 
By  these  lie  was  extremely  surprised  to  find  that  the  squadron, 
notwithstanding  his  urgent  and  precise  order,  was  not  vet  in 
safety  ;  that  it  was  neither  in  the  port  of  Alexandria  nor  on  its 
way  to  Corfu  or  Toulon,  but  waiting  in  Aboukir  roads,  exposed 
to  the  attacks  of  an  enemy  of  greater  force.  Instead  of  getting 
under  weigh  the  instant  he  had  landed  the  artillery  and  army 
stores,  the  Admiral  wasted  time  (as  if  bound  by  a  spell)  in  recti- 
fying  his  line  of  moorings,  supporting  his  left  behind  the  little 
Flo  of  Aboukir,  where,  thinking  it  unassailable,  he  placed  his 
worst  ships,  the  Guerrier  and  Conquerant,  and  having  a  battery  of 
ten  twelve-pounders  constructed  on  it.  Buonaparte,  on  learning 
these  particulars,  dispatched  his -aide-de-camp  Julien  /iuin  the  army 


16  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 

to  the  Admiral  to  inform  him  of  his  great  disapprobation,  and  to 
warn  him  to  set  sail  immediately,  and  either  to  get  into  Alexan- 
dria or  make  for  Corfu,  lie  reminded  him  that  all  nnv.il  ordi- 
nances forbad  the  receiving  battle  in  an  open  road.  The  aide-de- 
camp set  out  on  the  27th  at  seven  in  the  evening,  and  could  not 
have  arrived  before  the  3d  or  4th  of  August,  that  is,  till  aher  the 
battle  had  taken  place  ;  but  he  had  only  reached  Teramia,  when 
a  party  of  Arabs  surprised  the  jerm  in  which  lie  was.  and  this 
spirited  vouns  man  was  massacred  by  them,  while  courageously 
defending  the  dispatches  of  which  he  was  the  bearer,  and  of  which 
he  knew  the  importance. 

Admiral  Uruevs  remained  inactive  in  the  bad  position  he  had 
chosen.  An  English  frigate,  which  had  been  detached  twenty 
days  before  by  Nelson,  of  whom  she  was  now  in  search,  presented 
herself  before  Alexandria  and  went  to  Aboukir  to  examine  the 
whole  line  of  moorings,  which  she  accomplished  with  impunity  ; 
not  a  ship,  frigate,  or  brig  was  under  sail.  Yet  tiie  Admiral  had 
above  thirty  light  ships  with  which  he  might  have  scoured  the 
sea :  they  were  all  at  anchor.  At  any  rate  he  should  have  kepi 
a  few  of  these  in  readiness  to  prevent  any  light  English  vessels 
frnrn  watching  his  motions,  and  to  obtain  the  earliest  intelligence 
of  their  approach.  On  the  31st  of  July,  Xeison  sent  forward  twe 
of  his  ships,  which  reconnoitred  the  French  lino  of  moorings  wit]]. 
out  molestation.  On  the  1st  of  August,  the  English  squadroi 
came  in  sight  towards  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  with  all  sails 
set.  A  fresh  gale  of  wind  was  blowing.  Admiral  Brueys  was 
at  dinner;  part  of  the  crews  were  on  shore  :  the  decks  were  not 
cleared  in  a  single  ship.  The  Admiral  immediately  gave  orders 
to  prepare  f>r  action,  and  dispatched  an  officer  to  Alexandria  to 
demand  the  seamen  of  the  convoy.  Shortly  after,  he  made  a  sig- 
nal t<>  get  under  sail  :  hut  the  English  squadron  came  up  so  rap- 
idlv,  that  there  was  hardlv  time  to  clear  tin'  decks,  which  was 
done  with  extreme  negligence.  Even  on  board  the  Orient,  the 
Admiral's  ship,  some  cabins  which  had  been  constructed  on  the 
p  i  >p  tor  the  accommodation  of  the  officers  of  the  army  during  the 
passage,  were  not  removed,  but  were  left  full  of  matrasses  and 
buckets  of  paint  and  tar.  The  Guerrier  and  the  Conquerant 
each  cleared  only  one  tier  of  guns  for  action  ;   the  side  that   was 


BATTLE   OF    fill    NILE.  17 


towards  the  land  was  encumbered  wit?  all  that  had  been  cleared 
out  from  the  opposite  side ;  so  that.  y/h£.  i  the  ships  were  turned, 
that  side  could  not  fire.  The  English  could  hardly  believe  this 
when  they  saw  it,  and  sent  to  examine  the  reason  of  it.  They 
.saw  the  French  flag  wave,  though  not  a  gun  was  fired. 

The  men  who  had  been  spared  from  the  different  crews  had 
scarcely  time  enough  to  return  on  board.  The  French  Admiral, 
judging  that  the  enemy  would  not  be  within  gun-shot  before  six- 
o'clock,  supposed  that  lie  would  not  attack  until  the  following  day, 
more  particularly  as  he  only  observed  eleven  seventy-four-gun 
ships  ;  the  two  others  had  been  sent  forward  to  Alexandria,  and 
did  not  rejoin  Nelson  till  eight  in  the  evening.  Brueys  did  not 
bolieve  the  English  Admiral  would  attack  him  the  same  day,  and 
with  only  eleven  ships.  Besides  it  is  imagined  he  thought  at  first 
of  getting  under  weigh,  but  that  lie  deferred  giving  the  order  till 
the  sailors  whom  he  was  expecting  from  Aboukir  should  be  em- 
oarked.  All  this  was  wrong  ;  showed  either  little  stomach  for 
the  light,  by  which  ho  judged  of  others,  or  was  waiting  for  an 
idle  concurrence  of  favorable  circumstances,  instead  of  making 
the  best  use  of  those  in  his  power.  The  cannonade  now  com- 
menced ;  and  an  English  ship  having  struck  on  the  Isle,  this  ac- 
cident gave  Brueys  fresh  confidence.  The  sailors  from  Alexan- 
dria did  not  arrive  till  towards  eight  o'clock,  and  a  great  many 
took  advantage  of  the  confusion  and  darkness  to  remain  on  shore. 
The  English  Admiral's  plan  was  to  attack  ship  after  ship,  every 
English  ship  anchoring  astern,  and  placing  herself  athwart  the 
head  of  a  French  ship  ;  hut  accident  altered  this  original  design. 
The  Culloden,  intending  to  attack  the  Guerrier,  and  endeavoring 
to  pass  between  the  loft  of  that  ship  and  the  Isle,  struck.  Had 
the  Isle  been  supplied  witli  a  few  pieces  of  cannon,  this  ship  might 
easily  have  been  taken.  •  The  Goliah  which  followed  her, 
manoeuvring  to  anchor  athwart  the  head  of  the  Guerrier,  was 
carried  away  by  the  wind  and  current,  and  did  not  anchor  till  she 
had,  passed  and  turned  that  ship.  Perceiving  then  that  the  lar- 
board tiers  of  the  Conquerant  did  not  fire,  she  placed  herself  along- 
side of  tha'.  vessel,  and  soon  disabled  her.  The  Zealous,  the 
second  English  ship,  followed  the  movemerf  of  the  Goliah,  and 
anchoring    alongside  the    Guerrier,  which   could    rot    return  he: 

2  * 


18  LIFE   OF    XAPOLEON. 


fire,  speedily  dismasted  her.  1  lie  Orion,  the  third  English  ship 
executed  the  same  manoeuvre,  but  was  it-tarded  in  her  move 
merit  by  the  attack  of  a  French  frigate,  and  cast  anchor  between 
.he  Franklin  and  the  Peuple  Souverain.  The  Vanguard,  thp 
English  Admiral's  ship,  cast  anchor  athwart  the  Spartiate,  the 
third  French  ship.  The  Defiance,  the  Belleropnon,  the  .Majestic, 
and  the  -Minotaur  followed  the  same  movement,  a'd  engaged  the 
centre  of  the  French  line  as  far  as  the  Tonnant,  trie  eighth  ship. 
The  Fiench  Admiral  and  his  two  seconds  formed  a  line  of  tliiee 
ships,  having  greatly  the  advantage  in  size  and  weight  of  metal 
of  tin  jvm  of  the  English.  The  fire  was  terrible:  the  Bellerophon 
was  disabled,  dismasted,  and  compelled  to  strike.  Several  other 
English  ships  were  obliged  to  sheer  off;  and  if  at  that  moment 
Admiral  Vilieneuve,  who  commanded  the  right  of  the  French 
navy,  had  cut  his  cables  and  fallen  on  the  English  line  with  the 
five  ships  under  his  command,  it  must  have  been  in  the  greatest 
danger  of  being  destroyed.  The  Culloden  had  struck  on  the  Be- 
quieres  bank,  and  the  Leander  was  engaged  in  trying  to  bring  her 
off.  The  Alexander  and  Swiftsure,  two  other  English  ships,  see- 
ing that  the  enemy's  right  did  not  stir,  and  that  their  own  cen- 
tre was  hard-pressed,  made  towards  it.  The  Alexander  took 
the  place  of  the  Bellerophon,  and  tiie  Swiftsure  attacked  the 
Franklin.  The  Leander,  which  till  then  had  been  engag<  1  ii 
righting  the  Culloden,  perceiving  the  situation  in  which  the  centre 
stood,  hastened  to -its  relief.  Victory  was  still  far  from  being  de 
cided  either  wav.  The  Guerrier  and  C  inquerant  no  longer  fired, 
but  ihov  v.    .--■  th      w    rst   ships  the   French    had  :   and  on  the  si  Ij 

if  the  English,  the  Cull    len  and  Be  were  disabled,      The 

c-'iitr  if  the  French  line  had.,  by  the  great  superiority  of  its  ^uns. 
nee  as:  n  d  the  ships  pp  is  -d  to  it  more  damage-  than  it  had  its'  It' 
sustained.  The  English  had  onlv  three  seventy -fours  against  tw  o 
hy-tours  and  one  hundred-and-twenty-gun  ship.  It  was  t  -  be 
;  !'■  sinned  then  that  the  fhv  bein:_r  thus  kept  u  all  uijht,  A  li  i 
\    .  '  neuve    would    at  last   _"  t  und   r   wav    in   the-   m  irnincr,  and  a 

.  ;i'  re  it  turn  to  the  affair  must  be  <  xn<  cte  i  by  the  Fr.ee  h  fro;r 
the  atlacK  of  five  _  •  A  ships,  which  as  y  t  1  ■  :  .  r  fire!  n  ir 
received  a  single  cannon-shot.  But  at  el  veu  'ci  ck  the  Orient 
belonging  to  the   French   Admiral,  took  fire  and    blew  uu.      This 


BATTLE   OF   THE   NILE.  19 

event  decided  the  victory.  The  dreadful  explosion  of  this  ship 
suspended  the  action  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  At  the  end  of  that 
period,  the  firing  commenced  again,  and  continued  without  any 
aba'ement  till  diree  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  it  slackened  on 
both  sides  till  between  five  and  six.  It  then  redoubled  and  became 
as  terrible  as  ever  In  a  word,  the  battle  was  raging  at  noon, 
nor  was  it  over  before  two  o'clock.  Villeneuve  then  seemed,  to 
awaken  from  his  trance,  and  to  perceive  that  the  fleet  had  been 
lig'umg  for  twenty  hours.  He  cut  his  cables  and  stood  out  to  sea 
with  iivo  of  his  ships,  the  Guillaume  Tell*  and  Genereux,  and 
with  "vo  frigates  ;  his  other  three  ships  ran  aground  without  fight- 
ing. Such  was  the  havoc  made  in  this  determined  fight  that, 
twenb-four  hours  after  the  battle,  the  French  flag  was  still  dying 
on  board  the  Tonnant,  and  Nelson  had  no  ship  in  a  condition  to 
attack  her.  Not  only  the  William  Tell  and  Genereux  were  not 
jursucd  by  any  of  the  English  ships,  but  in  the  shattered  state 
they  were  in,  they  were  not  sorry  to  see  them  make  ofF.  Admi- 
ral Bnieys,  though  lie  had  received  several  wounds,  would  not 
go  uoivn  to  the  cockpit  ;  he  died  on  his  quarter-deck,  giving  his 
orders,  a  little  before  the  Orient  blew  up.  After  that  event, 
\  illeneuve  became  commander  and  was  the  judge  of  his  own 
motions  j  what  then  becomes  of  the  plea  that  he  waited  for  or- 
der? ?  Admiral  Villeneuve  was  understood  to  be  a  brave  and 
good  seaman  ;  his  remaining  a  quiet  spectator  of  a  battle  which 
lasted  for  twenty  hours  can  therefore  only  be  accounted  for  in  one 
of  three  ways;  either  from  a  sudden  and  invincible  panic  at  the 
moment;  or  from  that  over-anxiety  about  what  was  proper  to  be 
done,  which  suspends  all  power  of  action  ;  or  from  that  turn  of 
mind  through  which  the  slightest  motives,  a  more  form  or  a  point 
of  etiquette,  outweigh  the  most  serious  and  important  conse- 
<]  lences. 

It  is  quite  certain  that  an  English  Admiral  would  not  have 
remained  neuter  in  this  position,  nor  would  the  crews  have  let 
him.  not  from  a  difference  of  tactics  in  the  two  navies,  but  from  a 
Inference  of  commoa  sense.  The  English  understanding,  so  to 
speak,  even  from  a  certain  slowness  and  hebetude,  runs   less  into 

*  This  and  the  Franklin  are  the  names  of  French  ships,  and  show  at 
'east  the  side  their  country  affected. 


20  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

fine  distinctions  and  is  less  liable  to  be  led  away  by  a  variety  of 
minor  considerations,  which  it  has  not  the  art  to  magnify  at  pleas- 
wre  into  matters  of  importance  ;  it  sees  and  attends  only  to  the 
principal  point,  the  one  thing  needful,  and  therefore,  in  cases  of 
critical  emergency  and  urgent  necessity,  possesses  a  sounder 
practical  judgment  than  the  French,  which  flutters  about  an  ob- 
ject, and  is  distracted  by  a  multiplicity  of  shifting  and  insignificant 
views  of  the  same  thing.  For  the  same  reason,  the  English  are 
as  inferior  to  the  French  in  diplomacy  as  they  arc  superior  to 
them  in  downright  action  •  because  there  the  essential  business  is 
not  to  feel  the  real  home  truth,  but  to  disguise  it  and  draw  olF  at- 
tention from  it  by  fifty  evasions  and  verbal  excuses.  The  pre- 
dominant feature  of  the  English  is  a  certain  honesty  or  sincerity 
of  feeling  which  makes  them  dupes — but  accompanied  with  a 
steadiness  of  purpose  and  a  proportion  in  their  efforts  to  their 
sense  of  the  importance  of  the  occasion,  which  does  not  allow 
them  to  be  willing  ones.  I  have  dwelt  on  this  because  I  think  it 
affords  a  clue  to  the  superiority  of  the  English  naval  tactics.  The 
French  are  undoubtedly  brave,  but  their  bravery  seems  to  be  an 
affair  of  impulse  ;  they  do  not  stop  to  calculate  consequences,  but 
yield  to  their  national  ardor  and  impetuosity,  and  rush  at  once  on 
danger  and  the  foe.  Had  Villeneuve  had  to  lead  a  battalion  of 
cavalry  to  the  field.  I  have  little  doubt  he  would  have  been  with- 
held by  no  considerations  of  prudence  or  punctilio  from  obeying 
the  instinct  of  personal  courage;  and  charging  at  their  head, 
have  exp  >sed  himself  in  the  thickest  of  the  ranks  with  the  great- 
lantry  and  boldness.  But  in  the  other  case,  he  had  to  ma- 
neemre  four  or  five  unwieldy  ships,  to  guide  a  complicated  me- 
chanical operation,  to  prevent  their  running  ashore,  to  come  up 
to  the  point  of  action,  and  all  his  nautical  calculations  and  pro- 
cess of  abstraction  threw  a  damp  upon  his  natural  ardor  and  held 
his  judgment  in  suspense.  Now  the  Englishman's  head  is  <  ssen- 
tiallv  mechanical  and  his  will  acts  upon  the  decision  of  the  under- 
standing : — when  a  Frenchman,  on  the  contrary  has  to  act  from 
[oresight  and  combination,  he  forgets  the  end  in  the  means,  ana 
is  either  rash  and  flighty  or  formal  and  pedantic.  So  much  for 
t.ie  naval  vjm.iumder.  Again,  with  respect  to  those  under  his 
command,  the  courage  of  the  French  is  in  attack,  or  in  venturing 


BATTLE   OF   THE    NILE.  21 

upon  danger ;  the  courage  of  the  sailor  is  wholly  or  chiefly  in 
defence,  or  in  holding  out  against  it.  Except  in  the  case  of  board- 
ing a  vessel,  he  cannot  get  at  his  enemy  or  intimidate  him  cither 
by  gallant  bearing  or  by  personal  prowess;  he  merely  mans  his 
own  guns,  and  stands  the  lire  of  the  enemy's  battery  with  resolu- 
tion and  presence  of  mind,  and  certainly  in  this,  which  may  be 
called  the  passive  part  of  courage,  the  English  sailor  bears  the 
bell  alone.  It  is  bred  in  his  blood  and  in  his  bone.  Stupid  he 
may  be,  brutal  he  may  be,  low  and  vulgar;  but  he  endures  pain 
and  wounds  without  flinching,  and  he  will  be  sooner  cut  in  pieces 
than  he  will  give  in.  A  bullet  whizzing  by  makes  him  recollect 
himself;  a  splinter  that  stuns  him  brings  him  to  his  senses;  the 
smart  of  his  wounds  sharpens  his  courage,  and  all  that  damps  and 
startles  others  rivets  him  to  his  post.  The  British  tar  feels  con- 
scious of  his  existence  in  suffering  and  anguish,  and  woos  dan- 
ger as  a  bride.  There  is  something  in  this  .Saxon  breed  of  men, 
like  the  courage  and  resolution  of  the  mastiff",  that  only  cornea 
out  on  such  occasions.  Coarse,  dull,  vicious,  obstinate,  bowed 
down  by  ignorance  and  benumbing  want,  there  is  something  in 
his  soul  that  struggles  with  his  fate,  and  seeks  to  throw  off'  the 
load  that  oppresses  it,  and  stakes  its  all  on  one  hour  of  heroic 
daring  or  unshaken  fortitude;  and  shut  out  from  effeminate  de- 
lights, takes  a  pride  in  the  extremity  of  pain,  stands  by  his  coun- 
try, the  only  thing  on  which  he  values  himself,  to  his  latest  breath, 
and  wipes  out  a  life  of  shame  and  ignominy  by  a  glorious  end. 
The  wooden  walls  of  Old  England  are  nothing  but  this  hard  ob- 
d unite  character,  that  melts  and  expands  in  the  heat  of  battle 
as  in  a  summer's-dav.  that  welcomes  a  cannon-ball  as  an  even 
match,  feels  the  first  flush  of  triumph  with  the  last  gush  of  life, 
and  is  quits  with  the  world  by  the  shout  of  victory  and  death  ! 
'flic  difference  then  of  the  French  and  English  navy  depends  on 
the  character  of  the  two  nations,  and  this  will  change  when  the 
bull-dog  changes  natures  with  the  greyhound.  It  has  been  said 
that  the  great  error  of  the  French  (in  which  they  persist  in  spite 
of  experience  )  is  in  firing  at  the  rigging  instead  of  the  decks;  but 
this  is  only  another  example  of  what  has  been  said  before  of  being  at- 
tached to  a  theory  or  a  whim,  instead  of  minding  the  main  chance.'* 
*  As  I  was  crossing  the  channel  nut  long  ago,  there  was  a  cry  of  A  man 


»  LIFE   OF    NAPOLEON. 

Buonaparte  labors  hard,  probably  from  jealousy  of  the  English, 
probably  from  professional  prejudice,  to  show  the  inferiority  of 
the  naval  to  the  land-service.  His  reasoning  is  acute,  but  seems 
like  ex-purte  evidence.  Lord  Nelson  could  probably  have  given 
reasons  in  favor  of  the  navy  with  equal  plausibility.  Such  rea- 
sonings are  seldom  satisfactory,  when  one  can  tell  beforehand  the 
side  the  arguer  will  take.  Buonaparte  however  assigns  three 
grounds  of  his  determination  on  this  point:  1st,  the  equality  of  the 
surface  at  sea.  and  that  you  always  see  your  enemy  ;  2d,  that 
much  more  depends  on  the  captains  of  the  different  ships  and  the 
courage  of  the  individual  crews;  3d,  the  difficulty  of  provisioning 
a  large  army  by  land,  wdiereas  the  naval  commander  carries  his 
own  stores,  camp,  and  citadel  with  him.  The  two  last  may  be 
true;  but  with  respect  to  the  first  the  greater  inequality  and  ac- 
cidents of  the  ground  by  land,  is  not  that  balanced  by  the  uncer- 
tainty of  the  winds  and  waves  at  sea  and  the  necessity  of  man- 
aging these  ?  Out  of  the  three  great  actions  which  Lord  Nelson 
fought,  two  were  fought  close  on  land,  and  he  had  to  provide  for 
risks  of  running  ashore,  for  passing  over  the  bar  of  the  harbor, 
ami  a  number  of  other  collateral  circumstances.  Buonaparte 
says  the  naval  commander  requires  but  one  science,  that  of  navi- 
gation which  is  certainly  a  thing  of  experience  and  routine  ;  and 
brings  as  proof  of  the  little  genius  that  this  species  of  warfare  exacts, 
that  Alexander  and  Conde  could  not  have  fought  battles  at  sea  as 
they  did  by  land,  when  they  were  only  two-and-twenty.  But  this 
only  seems  to  infer  thru  naval  tactics  require  more  knowledge  and 
science,  not  that  they  give  less  scope  for  genius  and  tact.  People 
mav  be  supposed  to  have  a  natural  turn  for  war  by  land,  because 
it  i.s  natural  to  live  on  land  and  not  at  sea;    so  that  these  are  the 

overboard.  The  vessel  was  stopped  in  an  instant.  The  boat  which  had 
been  just  lashed  to  the  riggi:  jr.  was  only  half  disentangled,  when  three  of  the 
sailors  hung  in  it  like  swallows.  It  was  no  sootier  let  down  than  a  fourcn 
jumped  into  it:  and  they  set  off  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning  in  pursuit  of 
the  drowning  man.  eagerly  seizins  every  hint  and  sign  from  the  ship  as  to 
the  direction  they  were  to  take.  They  got  up  with  him  just  in  time  and 
brought  him  sale  on  board.  Ten  minutes  after  they  were  at  their  ordinary 
work,  looking  as  dull,  awkward,  and  indifferent  as  possible,  nor  could  you 
tell  from  their  demeanor  that  any  thing  extraordinary  h  id  happened.  I*,  is 
this  lying  by  fur  action  that  is  the  I'or.'t  of  the  English  character. 


BATTLE   OF   THE   NILE.  » 

first  observations  we  make,  the  first  language  we  leam.  That 
another  science  besides  that  of  navigation  is  necessary  to  the 
naval  commander  is  evident  from  the  conduct  of  the  French 
Admiral  in  this  engagement,  namely,  common  sense. 

The  crews  of  the  three  French  ships  which  grounded  at  the 
end  of  the  engagement,  and  those  of  the  two  frigates,  landed  on 
the  beach  at  Aboukir.  A  hundred  men  escaped  from  the  Orient, 
and  a  great  number  of  men  from  the  other  ships  took  refuge  on 
shore,  availing  themselves  of  the  confusion  and  distress.  Tho 
army  thus  obtained  3500  recruits,  out  of  which  a  nautical  legion 
was  formed.  The  French  had  still  several  frigates  and  lighter 
vessels  in  the  port  of  Alexandria.  A  few  days  after  the  battle, 
Nelson  set  sail  and  quitted  the  shores  of  Alexandria,  leaving  two 
ships  of  war  to  blockade  the  port.  lie  was  received  in  triumph 
and  with  every  mark  of  honor  at  Naples.  The  loss  of  the  battle 
of  Aboukir  in  the  end  proved  fatal  to  the  expedition  into  Egypt: 
fifot,  by  depriving  the  army  of  their  battering  train,  the  want 
of  which  stopped  them  at  St.  Jean  d'Acre,  and  secondly,  by 
giving  the  Divan  courage  to  declare  war  against  France.  The 
French  General-in-chief  was  before  this  event  sanguine  with  re. 
spect  to  success,  and  sometimes  talked  jocularly  of  returning 
home  by  way  of  Constantinople. — Buonaparte  considers  a  fleet  of 
thirty  sail  of  the  line  as  equal  to  an  army  of  120,000  men,  taking 
one  thing  with  another  ;  and  he  conceives  that  France  might 
maintain  an  establishment  of  three  such  fleets  as  well  as  three 
armies  of  120,000  men  each. 

Two  letters  written  by  him  on  this  occasion  deserve  to  be  in 
serted  here,  the  one  as  showing  his  humanity,  the  other  his  na- 
tional spirit,  and  both  his  indefatigable  activity  of  mind. 

Buonaparte's  Letter  to  the  Widow  of  Admiral  Brueys. 

"Cairo,  10th  of  August.  179S. 

"  Your  husband  has  been  killed  by  a  cannon  shot,  while  fight 
ing  on  his  deck.  lie  died  without  pain,  and  by  the  best  death, 
and  that  which  is  thought  by  soldiers  most  enviable. 

"  1  am  keenly   sensible  to  your   grief.      The   moment    w!iich 
severs  us   from  the  object   we   love  is  terrible  :    it  insulates  ui 


24  LIFE   OF    NAPOLEON. 


from  all  the  earth ;  it  inflicts  on  the  body  the  agonies  of  death  ; 
the  faculties  of  the  soul  are  annihilated  and  its  relation  with  the 
universe  subsists  only  through  the  medium  of  a  horrible  dream 
which  distorts  every  thing.  Mankind  appear  colder  and  more 
selfish  than  they  really  are.  In  this  situation  we  feel  that  if 
nothing  obliged  us  to  live,  it  would  be  much  best  to  die :  but 
when  after  this  first  thought  we  press  our  children  to  our  heart-, 
tears  and  tender  emotions  revive  the  sentiments  of  our  nature. 
and  we  live  for  our  children.  Yes.  madame,  see  in  this  xcrx  mo- 
ment how  they  open  your  heart  to  melancholy  ;  you  will  weep 
with  them,  you  will  bring  them  up  from  infancy — you  will  talk 
to  them  of  their  father,  of  your  sorrow,  of  the  loss  which  you  and 
the  Republic  have  sustained.  After  having  once  more  attached 
your  mind  to  the  world  by  the  ties  of  filial  and  maternal  love, 
set  some  value  on  the  friendship  and  lively  regard  I  shall  always 
feel  for  the  wife  of  my  friend.  Believe  that  there  are  those  who 
deserve  to  be  the  hope  of  the  afflicted,  because  they  understand 
the  poignancy  of  mental  sufferings." 

From    General  Buonaparte  to    General  Kb:Ler. 

'•'Cairo,  10th  of  September,  1798. 

"A  ship  like  the  Franklin.  General,  which  had  the  Admiral 
on  board,  the  Orient  having  blown  up.  ought  not  to  have  surren- 
dered at  eleven  o'clock.  I  think,  moreover,  that  the  officer  who 
surrendered  this  ship  is  extremely  culpable,  because  it  is  proved 
bv  his  own  prrjces-verbal  that  he  took  no  measures  to  wreck  his 
ship  and  render  it  impossible  to  bring  it  to;  this  will  be  an  eter- 
nal disgrace  to  the  French  navy.  It  is  not  necessary  to  know 
much  of  manoeuvres  or  to  possess  extraordinary  talents,  to  cut  a 
cable  and  run  a  ship  aground;  besides,  these  measures  are 
especially  prescribed  in  the  instructions  and  ordinances  given  to 
captains  in  the  navy.  As  for  the  conduct  of  Rear- Admiral 
Duchaila.  it  would  have  become  him  to  have  died  on  his  quarter- 
deck, like  Du  Petit-Thouars. 

"  Rut  what  deprives  him  of  every  chance  of  restoration  to  my 
esteem,  is  his  base  conduct  among  the  English  since  lie  has  been 
a  prisoner.      There   are  men  who   have   no   blood  in   their  veins 


BAT.TLE   OF   THE  NILE.  2* 

lie  will  hear  tne  English,  then,  drink  to  the  disgrace  of  the  French 
navy,  while  they  intoxicate  themselves  with  punch.  He  is  will- 
ing to  be  landed  at  Naples,  then,  as  a  trophy  for  the  Lazzaroni  to 
gaze  at. ;  it  would  have  been  much  better  for  him  to  have  re- 
gained at  Alexandria,  or  on  board-ship,  as  a  prisoner  of  war, 
without  ever  wishing  or  asking  for  any  favor.  When  O'Hara, 
who  nevertheless  was  a  very  common  character,  was  made  pris- 
oner at  Toulon,  and  was  asked  by  me  on  the  part  of  General 
Uugommier,  what  he  wished  for,  he  answered,  '  To  be  alone,  and 
10I  to  le  indebted  to  pity.'  Attentions  and  courtesy  are  honorable 
only  to  the  victor ;  they  do  no  credit  to  the  vanquished,  whom 
reserve  and  haughtiness  best  become." 

Buonaparte  also  at  the  same  time  addressed  a  short  and  affect- 
ing letter  to  the  father  of  Vice-Admiral  Thevonard,  who  was 
killed  in  the  battle. 


"6  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 


SITUATION    OF    EGYPT. 


A  few  days  after  his  entrance  into  Cairo,  Buonaparte  ordered 
Reynier's  division  to  proceed  to  Elkhankah,  where  General  Le- 
clerc's  cavalry  where  fighting  with  a  multitude  of  Arabs  and 
peasants  of  the  country,  wnom  Ibrahim-Bey  had  prevailed  upon  to 
revolt.  About  fifty  peasants  and  some  Arabs  were  killed  in  these 
skirmishes.  The  General-in-Chief  followed  with  the  divisions  of 
General  Lannes  and  Dugua,  and  the  troops  proceeded  by  lony 
marches  on  Syria,  constantly  driving  Ibrahim-Bey  and  all  the 
forces  he  commanded  before  them. 

On  the  road  to  Belbeis,  they  delivered  part  of  the  caravan  of 
Mecca,  which  the  Arabs  had  carried  off  and  were  conveying  into 
the  Desert,  into  which  they  had  already  advanced  two  leagues.  It 
was  conducted  to  Cairo  under  a  good  escort.  At  Koureyn  they 
found  another  part  oi~  the  caravan,  composed  of  merchants,  who 
had  been  first  stopped  by  Ibrahim-Bey,  and  after  being  released  by 
him  were  plundered  bv  the  Arabs.  Tie-  booty  seized  by  them 
must  have  been  considerable  ;  one  merchant  alone  having  lost 
goods  to  the  amount  of  200,000  crowns.  This  merchant  had  all 
his  women  with  him,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  country. 
The  General-in-Chief  ordered  a  supper  for  them,  and  procured 
them  camels  tor  their  journey  to  Cairn.  Several  of  the  females 
appeared  to  possess  handsome  figures  ;  but  their  faces  were  cov 
er-'d,  a  custom  to  which  the  soldiers  were  not  easily  rec  nciled. 
Salahieh  is  the  last  inhabited  place  in  Egypt  where  go  id  water  is 
to  he  found.  The  Desert  dividing  Syria  from  Egypt  begins  there. 
Ibrahim-Bev,  with  his  armv,  treasure,  and  women,  had  just  set 
out  from  this  place  as  the  French  entered  it.  Buonaparte  pur- 
sued him  with  the  little  cavalry  he  had.  A  party  of  150  Arabs 
"vno  had  been  with  the  Bev,  nlie red  *o  charge  with  the  French  and 


SIT  CATION   OF   EGYPT.  27 

share  the  booty.  Night  was  coming  on;  the  horses  were  exces- 
sively fatigued,  the  infantry  at  a  good  distance  behind;  under 
all  these  disadvantages,  however,  the  attack  was  made,  which 
the  Mamelukes  sustained  with  the  greatest  courage.  The  chief 
of  squadron  D'Estree  was  mortally  wounded.  Almost  every 
staff-officer  and  every  hussar  was  engaged  in  single  combat. 
Colonel  Lasalle  dropped  his  sabre  in  the  midst  of  the  charge  ;  he 
was  expert  and  fortunate  enough  to  recover  it,  and  remount  in 
time  to  defend  himself  against  one  of  the  most  intrepid  of  the 
Mamelukes.  Murat,  Dr  oc,  Letureq,  Colbert,  and  Arrighi  were 
all  engaged  in  the  thickest  of  the  battle,  and  were  hurried  by 
their  impetuosity  into  imminent  danger.  The  French  took  two 
pieces  of  cannon  and  fifty  camels,  loaded  with  tents  and  other 
booty.  Ibrahim-Bey,  who  was  wounded  in  the  action,  pursued 
his  way  across  the  Desert.  Buonaparte  left  General  Reynier's 
division  and  the  engineer  officers  at  Salahieh  to  construct  a  fort ; 
and  set  out  on  bis  return  to  Cairo.  lie  had  not  gone  above  two 
leagues  from  Salahieh,  when  he  was  met  by  General  Kleber's 
aide-de-camp  bringing  intelligence  of  the  loss  of  the  battle  in 
Aboukir  roads.  The  messenger  had  been  eleven  days  on  his 
journey  ;  and  this  was  the  first  news  Buonaparte  received  of  that 
event,  which  gave  a  severe  blow  to  his  hopes  of  success.  However 
he  repaired  to  Cairo,  where  he  remained  for  a  considerable  time, 
endeavoring  to  make  the  most  of  the  means  that  were  left  to  him. 
His  activity  appears  to  have  been  always  the  same,  neither  relaxed 
bv  good  fortune  nor  discouraged  by  failure  ;  and  indeed  he  seems 
to  have  had  no  sort  of  objection  to  attempt  the  reconciling  of  con- 
tradictions and  tampering  with  hopeless  materials,  their  very  im- 
practicability irritating  his  self-will  and  giving  scope  to  his  inge- 
nuity and  a  number  of  expedients.  To  contrive  and  to  will  were 
'.he  first  necessities  of  his  soul  ;  to  succeed,  unless  by  extraordi- 
nary and  arduous  means,  was  only  the  second. 

A  great  deal  of  what  he  did  (though  probably  all  that  he  could 
do  in  the  actual  circumstances)  may  be  accounted  for  on  this 
principle  of  wilfulness  and  contradiction.  There  is  no  end  of  the 
art  and  energy  employed,  and  the  only  fault  to  he  found  is  that 
they  arc  thrown  away  upon  oiuects  on  which  they  can  produce 
no  corresponding  effect,  or  resemble  the  inge:  lous  manccuvrt-s  ot 


28  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 

a  masterly  chess-player  to  win  a  game  that  is  irrecoverably  lost. 
He  goes  over  the  ground  again,  long  alter  the  event,  with  the 
same  precaution  and  pertinacity  as  ever,  showing  that  in  spite  of 
appearances  the  whole  might  have  succeeded  in  the  end,  if  some 
new  disaster  had  not  happened  ;  though  where  so  many  ifs  con- 
cur to  the  execution  of  a  measure,  they  necessarily  put  a  decided 
negative  upon  its  ultimate  success.  Thus  he  seems  to  have 
written  those  studied  letters  to  Achmet  Pacha  to  persuade  him  he 
did  not  come  into  his  country  as  an  enemy,  for  no  other  reason 
than  that  these  fine  assurances  would  not  be  believed.  He  pro- 
portioned his  own  subtlety  and  craftiness  of  address  to  the  du- 
plicity and  hollowness  of  those  with  whom  he  had  to  deal,  en- 
countering the  wily  Arab,  the  selfish  Turk  at  their  own  weapons, 
and  sure  of  being  foiled.  He  sent  a  flag  of  truce  to  summon  the 
governor  of  a  fort,  and  because  his  head  was  struck  off.  he  sent 
another,  who  was  treated  in  the  same  barbarous  manner.  He 
did  wisely  in  attacking  the  Mamelukes,  who  were  the  military 
power,  and  in  paying  court  to  the  Scheiks,  who  were  the  civil 
power;  but  whatever  might  be  the  differences  or  jealousies  be- 
tween the  latter  and  the  former,  would  they  not  join  together  mi 
the  first  opportunity  to  expel  and  revenge  themselves  on  their 
Christian  and  European  invaders,  whom  they  regarded  as  dogs  in 
both  these  capacities  ?  "What  faith  could  he  have  in  the  Arabs 
as  auxiliaries,  whose  very  aspect  is  a  dusky  lie.  and  who  would 
make  use  of  their  temporary  submission  only  to  take  a  long  and 
lasting  revenge?  It  would  be  no  more  possible  to  have  any  hold 
on  their  fierce  cunning  than  to  tame  the  wind — to  expect  to  reap 
thanks  or  fidelity  fir  favors  conferred  would  be  sowing  benefits  in 
the  sand.  No  advantages  held  out  to  them  or  made  good  could 
ever  counterbalance  the  difference  of  color,  dress,  manners,  re- 
ligion, nature,  and  origin.  To  conquer  them  would  require 
either  immense  multitudes  or  a  great  length  of  time  ;  to  subdue 
them  by  art  would  require  a  new  system  of  laws,  of  manners, 
of  religion,  appealing  still  more  strongly  to  their  passions  and 
the  infirmities  of  their  nature  than  the  old  one,  for  nothing  is  a 
match  for  long-established  prejudice  but  fanaticism.  Novelty 
alone  propagates  opinions,  as  antiquity  confirms  them.  Nothing 
old  can  ever  be  revived]  for   if  it   had  not  been  um-uited  to  the 


SITUATION    OF    ECxYPT.  29 

circumstances  of  the  people,  it  would  have  been  still  in  existence. 
The  Jewish  religion  rose  and  sustained  itself  b}T  an  effort  and  in 
opposition  to  all  its  neighbors.  The  Christian  religion  had  been 
tried  and  was  supplanted  by  Mahoinetanism.  Its  mild  genius  did 
not  accord  with  the  fierceness  of  the  East.  The  end  and  aim  of 
the  Christian  dispensation  is  good,  that  of  the  Oriental  despotisms 
is  power.  The  spirit  of  Christianity  is  sympathy;  that  of  the 
East  exclusive  selfishness.  The  answer  to  the  question  "  Who 
is  thy  neighbor?"  in  the  Gospel,  is  he  whom  you  can  serve — in 
other  codes  it  is  he  who  can  be  of  service  to  you. 

When  Buonaparte  was  enraged  at  a  troop  of  Arabs  who  had 
attacked  a  village  in  the  neighborhood  of  Cairo,  and  murdered  one 
of  the  fellahs  or  peasants,  a  Scheik  asked  him  with  a  smile, 
"  Was  this  fellah  thy  cousin,  that  his  death  should  so  affect  thee?" 
The  good  or  evil,  the  right  or  wrong,  the  claims,  the  feelings,  or 
wishes  of  others  are  laid  out  of  the  question,  and  nothing  is  con- 
sidered as  valid,  but  the  power  to  inflict  mischief  or  its  being  in 
.-■o'.ne  way  brought  home  to  yourself.  The  heart  has  no  place  in 
such  a  system,  where  the  only  object  or  understood  principle  is  to 
acquire  power  and  property  over  others,  and  treat  them  according 
to  your  will  or  caprice  (as  mere  property)  without  considering 
their  welfare  or  sufferings,  their  life  or  death,  as  of  the  smallest 
moment,  and  where  you  are  regarded  in  the  same  light  by  others, 
from  the  lowest  to  the  highest  link  in  the  chain  of  authority. 
Hence  slavery  prevails  all  over  the  East  5  but  Christianity  or 
humanity  alike  repudiates  this  idea,  which  is  that  of  a  fellow- 
creature  who  is  placed  on  the  level  of  a  beast  of  burden  or  of  an 
inanimate  machine.  Hence  polygamy,  which  is  making  a  property 
of  the  affections  and  rejecting  an  equal  right  in  them.  Hence  a 
difference  in  another  particular,  namely,  that  love  with  us  implies 
not  only  an  object,  but  one  that  can  return  the  attachment,  and 
where  the  pleasure  is  equal  and  mutual;  there  it  seems  to  imply 
an  object,  an  appetite  merely,  but  to  exclude  the  idea  of  reciprocity, 
or  treat  it  with  indifference.  To  this  perversity  also  the  condition 
of  slavery  palpably  contributes;  for  where  a  despotic  power  is 
claimed,  where  nothing  is  left  to  the  choice  or  inclination,  the 
gratification  of  another  becomes  a  secondary  consideration  ;  and 
the  conquest  of  the  heart  not  being  at  all  taken   into  the  account, 


30  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 

the  will  creates  itself  a  difficulty  and  an  incentive  by  a  triumph 
over  nature.  Buonaparte,  in  alluding  to  the  speedy  decay  and 
degeneracy  of  the  Mameluke  races  in  Egypt,  attributes  it  to  a  de- 
pravity of  manners ;  and  on  reasoning  upon  this  subject  dues  not 
reason  well.  He  speaks  as  if  all  the  women  in  Egypt  were  old 
and  fat,  and  the  French  women  alone  were  light,  captivating,  and 
graceful.  This  is  complimenting  the  French  women  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  sex.  Besides,  if  Lady  Wortley  Montague  speaks 
truth,  the  women  at  Constantinople  are  as  handsome  as  those  of 
Paris  ;  and  Buonaparte  himself  gives  an  account  of  the  wife  of 
Murad-Bey,  a  woman  of  fifty,  as  having  all  the  grace,  the  bewitch- 
ing tunc-,  and  the  sweetness  and  elegance  uf  manners  of  the  must 
accomplished  women  in  Europe.  Nor  is  external  beauty  alone, 
according  to  our  ideas,  the  proper  object  of  love.  A  statue  of  a 
beautiful  woman  is  an  object  of  admiration,  but  not  of  love,  be- 
cause, though  the  pleasure  of  the  eye  may  be  the  same,  it  is  itself 
devoid  of  feeling.  The  reasoning  on  polygamy  is  also  ingenious, 
but  far-fetched.  Buonaparte  tries  to  account  for  the  prevalence 
of  polygamy  in  the  East  from  the  difference  of  color  in  the  inhab- 
itants and  the  desire  to  overcome  the  antipathy  arising  from  this 
circumstance  by  amalgamating  them  all  in  the  same  family. 
But  there  is  no  natural  diversity  of  color  in-  Asia  more  than  in 
Europe  or  Africa.  In  Asia  women  are  tawny,  as  in  Euro]  e 
they  are  white,  and  in  Africa  jet-black.  If  these  colors  meet 
more  commonly  in  Asia  than  in  Europe,  it  is  from  the  practice  of 
sending  women  from  other  countries  thither  as  to  a  mart;  which 
custom  itself  arises  from  the  practice  of  polygamy  or  the  purchase 
and  sale  of  beauty  like  any  other  commodity,  and  is  not  the  cause 
of  it.  Polygamy  is  common  in  Africa,  where  there  is  no  mixture 
of  colors.  It  is  the  attendant  not  of  a  mixture  of  colors,  but  of 
slavery.  It  is  the  fault  of  Buonaparte's  reasoning,  that  he  attri- 
butes too  much  in  human  affairs  to  political  and  final  causes, 
and  hardly  enough  to  natural  and  mural  ones. 

These  violent  differences  of  character  and  customs,  and.  as  it 
might  seem,  even  uf  nature,  were  sufficient  to  prevent  the  French 
from  making  a  very  strong  mural  impression  on  the  inhabitants 
uf  Egypt  ;  and  as  tu  physical  force,  they  had  not  enough  to  keep 
the  population  down  with  a  strong  hand.     To  retain  possession  of 


SITUATION    OF   EGYPT.  31 

Egypt  considered  merely  as  a  factory  or  fort  on  the  sea-coast,  it 
would  be  necessary  to  command  the  sea;  considered  as  a  king- 
dom rich  in  independent  resources,  it  has  the  back-ground  of  the 
Desert,  in  whose  pathless  extent  and  arid  sands  an  army  would 
be  lost  in  attempting  to  baffle  and  scatter  the  barbarians  of  a 
thousand  cities,  of  a  thousand  wilds.  The  people  were  too  much 
inured  to  a  different  and  uniform  way  of  life,  either  to  have  occa- 
sion for  or  to  set  much  store  by  our  refinements  and  comforts, 
which  were  neither  adapted  to  their  situation  nor  habits.  When 
Napoleon  one  day  asked  the  Scheik  El-Mondi  what  was  the  most 
useful  thing  he  had  taught  him  in  the  six  months  he  had  been 
among  them — ■'  The  most  useful  thing  you  have  taught  me,"  re- 
plied the  Scheik,  half  in  jest  and  half  in  earnest,  ';  is  to  drink  at 
my  meals  !  "  The  Arabs  had  too  little  knowledge  to  be  either 
curious  about  objects  of  science  or  to  take  any  interest  in  me- 
chanical improvements.  They  looked  upon  the  scientific  men 
meeting  in  parties  or  working  in  their  laboratories,  at  first  as  priests 
and  afterwards  as  alchymists;  nor  could  they  understand  the  in- 
terest the  French  appeared  to  take  in  the  Pyramids,  except  by 
supposing  that  those  Europeans  had  some  tradition  of  their  having 
been  built  by  their  remote  ancestors.  The  only  valuable  result 
of  the  expedition  is  the  famous  work  on  Egypt  got  up  by  these 
learned  men.  and  published  at  an  immense  expense  during  the 
first  fifteen  years  of  this  century.  The  benefits  of  science  are  too 
remote,  too  evanescent,  and  too  refined  to  strike  a  rude  and  sav- 
age people  who  have  most  need  of  them.  Again,  the  deference 
paid  by  the  General-in-Chief  to  the  manners  and  customs  of  the 
people,  his  joining  in  celebrating  their  feasts,  and  the  respect  he 
expressed  for  their  Prophet,  were  all  well-judged,  and  excellently 
adapted  to  conciliate  the  good-will  of  the  natives,  and  prevent  their 
unavoidable  repugnance  from  breaking  out  into  open  hostility; 
but  they  were  only  temporary  expedients  and  palliatives,  which 
required  other  resources  and  stronger  measures  in  reserve.  To 
have  overcome  so  many  obstacles  and  given  a  popular  impulse  in 
his  favor,  it  was  necessary  to  depart  from  the  common  course  of 
things  and  strike  the  ignorant  with  wonder  and  delight — he  should 
have  opened  the  canal  of  Suez  (as  was  talked  of  ),  or  by  a  new 
mode  of  irrigation  have  doubled  the  fertility  of  the  Nile  and  the 


32  LIFE    OF   NAPOLEON. 

population  of  Egypt,  or  preached  a  new  religion,  or  rebuilt  Pal- 
myra, or  allowed  the  use  of  wine,  or  worked  miracles,  or  seem  to 
work  them;  but  all  this  would  have  required  time,  another  age, 
and  faith  and  fortune  led  captive  to  accomplish  it.  The  English 
and  Portuguese  occupied  only  ports  on  the  seacoast  in  India  ;  and 
having  the  seas  to  themselves,  had  only  the  natives  to  contend 
with,  their  power  eating  gradually  into  the  interior  like  a  cancer. 
After  the  Portuguese  found  out  the  passage  by  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope,  the  Venetians  lost  the  commerce  of  the  East,  which  they 
had  carried  on  by  way  of  Egypt.  Even  supposing  the  French  to 
have  established  themselves  in  Egypt,  does  not  this  fact  show 
that  the  great  traffic  would  still  have  been  carried  on  by  the  old 
road  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  Ocean,  or  remained  in  the  hands 
of  the  great  maritime  powers  ? 

Egypt  borders  on  the  Nile,  and  occupies  an  extent  of  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  leagues  in  length,  from  Elephautino  to  Cairo,  and 
five  in  breadth,  after  which  the  Nile  divides  into  two  branches, 
and  forms  the  Delta.  The  valley  of  the  Nile  is  about  equal  in 
surface  to  a  sixth  part  of  ancient  France,  but  it  is  far  more  fer- 
tile, and  is  like  one  continued  garden,  there  being  neither  rock, 
mountain,  nor  waste  in  it.  It  never  rains  in  Egypt;  the  fertility 
of  the  country  depends  entirely  on  the  overflowing  of  the  Nile, 
which  brings  a  kind  of  rich  loam  or  slime  with  it  from  the  moun- 
tains of  Abyssinia,  where  it  takes  its  rise,  and  the  year  is  more 
or  less  abundant  in  proportion  as  it  rises  higher  or  lower.  By 
means  of  a  canal  to  draw  the  waters  of  the  Nile  into  the  Croat 
Oasis,  a  vast  kingdom  was  acquired.  The  country  is  remarkably 
healthy;  the  nights  are  cool;  a  burning  sun  never  tempered  by 
clouds,  scorches  up  the  vapors  arising  from  the  low  grounds  and 
marshes,  and  renders  them  innoxious.  The  population  of  Egypt 
formerly,  in  the  time  of  Scsostris  and  the  Ptolemies,  and  after- 
wards at  the  period  when  it  was  conquered  by  the  Arabs  in  the 
seventh  century,  was  supposed  to  amount  to  fifteen  or  twenty  mil- 
lions. At  present,  it  amounts  to  between  two  and  three  millions; 
and  in  half  a  century  will  not  amount,  in  all  probability,  to  more 
than  a  million  and  a  half,  if  the  present  system  of  administration 
continue,-  so  long.  Vet  it  is  said  by  some  persons  that  the  earth 
is  always  as  full  as  it  can  hold,  and  that  government  can  have  no 


SITUATION    OF   EGYPT.  33 


influence  in  this  respect !  Egypt  was  anciently  the  great  mart 
and  thoroughfare  of  the  commerce  of  the  East.  This  was  car- 
ried on  by  way  of  the  Red  Sea,  and  the  goods  of  India  were 
thence  transported  to  Thebes  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  by  the 
canal  of  Suez,  or  conveyed  on  the  backs  of  camels  eighty  leagues 
across  the  Desert.  Alexandria,  built  by  Alexander  the  Great, 
was  the  chief  seat  and  emporium  of  all  this  wealth  flowing  in 
from  both  worlds.  It  was  the  second  city  in  the  Roman  empire. 
It  is  the  only  convenient  or  safe  harbor  on  a  coast  of  fifteen  hun- 
dred miles,  reaching  from  Tunis,  the  ancient  Carthage,  to  Alex- 
andretta  in  Syria.  It  is  situated  on  one  of  the  ancient  mouths  of 
tliJ  }\  ile  ;  but  at  present  the  dilapidation  and  neglect  of  the  canals 
of  the  Nile  prevent  its  waters  from  reaching  Alexandria,  except 
at  'he  height  of  the  inundation,  when  they  are  collected  and  pre- 
served in  large  cisterns,  which  have  a  striking  appearance.  The 
walls  of  Alexandria  were  formerly  twelve  miles  round ;  it  con- 
tained 4000  palaces,  4000  baths,  400  theatres,  12,000  shops,  and 
above  50,000  Jews.  The  Arabs  lost  28.000  men  in  taking  it  (in 
the  first  year  of  the  Hegira).  Here  is  the  tomb  of  Alexander,  in 
searching  which  the  French  antiquaries  found  an  elegant  little 
statue  in  lerra-cotta,  ten  or  twelve  inches  in  height,  dressed  after  the 
Greek  fashion  ;  near  the  city  were  Pompey's  Pillar  and  Cleopa- 
tra's famous  Needles.  The  architecture  of  the  Egyptian  cities 
resembles  the  Asiatics  more  than  the  European  ;  and  their  gar- 
dens are  full  of  trees  and  fountains,  but  not  laid  out  in  any  order. 
Egypt  produces  abundance  of  wheat,  rice,  and  pulse.  It  was 
the  granary  of  old  Rome,  as  it  is  at  present  that  of  Constantinople. 
It  also  produces  sugar,  indigo,  senna,  cassia,  nitre,  flax  and  hemp  ; 
but  it  has  neither  wood.  coal,  nor  oil.  It  procures  tobacco  from 
Syria,  and  coffee  from  Arabia.  It  feeds  numerous  flocks,  inde- 
pendently (if  those  of  the  Desert,  and  a  multitude  of  poultry. 
The  chickens  are  hatched  in  ovens,  which  is  an  immemorial  cus- 
tom. This  country  serves  as  an  intermediate  link  or  resting- 
place  between  Africa  and  Asia.  The  caravans  arrive  at  Cairo 
like  ships  on  a  coast,  at  the  moment  when  they  arc  least  ex- 
pected, and  from  the  most  remote  quarters.  Signals  of  their  ar- 
rival are  made  at  Gizeh,  and  they  approach  by  the  Pyramids. 
At  that  spot  they  are  informed  at  what  place  they  are  to  cross  the 


34  LIFE    OF    XAPOLEOX. 

Nile,  and  where  they  are  to  encamp  near  Cairo.  The  caravans 
thus  announced  are  tho.se  of  pilgrims  or  traders  from  Morocco, 
Fez.  Tunis,  Algiers,  or  Tripoli,  going  to  Mecca  and  bringing 
goods  to  barter  at  Cairo.  They  are  usually  composed  of  several 
hundred  camels,  sometimes  even  of  thousands,  and  escorted  by 
troops  of  armed  men.  Caravans  also  come  from  Abyssinia,  from 
the  interior  of  Africa,  from  Tagoast.  and  from  places  in  direct 
communication  with  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  and  Senegal.  They 
bring  slave-,  gum,  gold-dust,  elephants'  teeth,  beautiful  ncgresses 
from  Darfour.  and  in  general  all  the  produce  of  those  countries. 
which  they  exchange  for  the  merchandize  of  Europe  and  of  the 
Levant.  The  French,  English,  or  any  other  nation  established 
in  Egypt,  would  soon  have  to  supply  the  wants  of  the  inhabitants 
of  the  Deserts  of  Africa.  Abyssinia,  Arabia,  and  a  great  part  of 
Syria,  and  in  return  might  obtain  from  Egypt  wheat,  rice,  sugar, 
nitre,  and  all  the  productions  of  Africa  and  Asia. 

There  is  neither  coach  nor  cart  in  Egypt.  The  facility  of 
water-carriage  supersedes  the  use  of  them  ;  and  the  camel  is  used 
to  cross  the  Desert  and  as  the  ordinary  beast  of  burthen.  The 
horses  are  the  finest  in  the  world.  Buonaparte's  coachman,  C;e- 
sar.  astonished  the  natives  by  his  dexterity  in  driving  his  carriage 
with  six  line  horses  through  the  narrow  streets  of  Cairo  and  Bou- 
lac.  He  himself  speaks  of  this  circumstance  with  no  small  com- 
placency. Even  the  greatest  minds  are  not  unwilling  to  derive 
admiration  from  accident  and  at  a  little  expense  of  exertion.  Lord 
Byron  endeavored  to  make  the  Italians  stare  bv  galloping  through 
the  streets  of  \  enice  on  the  only  live  horse  ever  seen  there. 

A  spring  of  water,  a  patch  of  verdure,  a  tent,  his  camels,  his 
horse,  and  a  herd  of  cattle,  are  all  that  the  Arab  possesses.  Wa- 
ter is  the  first  of  necessities  in  the  ]  >esert.  and  indeed  throughout 
the  Mast  ;  and  the  Prophet  has  in  a  manner  placed  this  element 
under  the  peculiar  protection  of  religion.  To  dig  a  canal  or  a 
Well,  or  to  erect  a  fountain,  are  considered  as  works  not  only  of 
great  merit,  but  as  acts  of  piety.  Let  us  not  run  away  with  an 
idea  that  all  is  wrong,  because  it  is  barbarous  or  unlike  ourselves. 
There  i-  a  limit  which  neither  good  nor  evil  can  pass  :  the  exci  ss 
of  every  thing  produces  its  contrary.  Slavery  in  the  East,  by 
being  absolute  and  universal;  has   its  necessary,  practical  allevia- 


SITUATION  OF   EGYPT.  35 

tions ;  otherwise  it  could  not  be  borne.  Slaves  are  admitted  as  a 
part  of  the  family,  marry  their  masters,  or  rise  to  the  highest  offi- 
ces in  the  State  ;  for  where  all  are  slaves,  all  are  equal.  Cruelty 
and  distress  naturally  produce  humanity  and  compassion,  as  hos- 
pitality is  the  child  of  the  Desert.  Charity  and  alms  are  recom- 
mended in  every  part  of  the  Koran,  as  the  means  of  being  most 
acceptable  to  God  and  the  Prophet.  Charity  is  so  far  the  off- 
spring of  the  parsimony  of  nature  and  the  ravages  of  power.  At 
the  appointed  hour  the  Mussulmans  say  their  prayers,  wherever 
they  may  happen  to  be,  or  whatever  business  they  are  engaged 
in  ;  the  slaves  spread  the  carpets  before  them,  and  they  kneel 
with  their  faces  towards  the  East.  At  the  feast  of  Ramadan  (says 
Voltaire)  the  Mahomedans  sing  and  pray  five  times  a  day,  and  then 
fall  to  cutting  each  other's  throats  with  the  greatest  good-will  im- 
aginable.  Nor  let  this  be  imputed  as  a  slur  upon  religion,  but  as 
a  redeeming  trait  in  human  nature,  of  which  it  stands  in  need. 
Instead  of  showing  the  fallacy  and  nullity  of  the  ideal  principle, 
it  shows  its  universality  and  indestructible  character.  Man  can 
no  more  divest  himself  entirely  of  the  etherial  particle,  the  divincz 
particvla  aarce,  than  of  the  grossness  of  his  nature,  however  one 
or  the  other  may  predominate.  The  Moor  or  wild  Arab  who 
laughs  at  human  ties,  who  is  the  slave  of  headstrong  passion  or 
of  sordid  interest,  is  still  tamed  by  certain  talismanic  words  writ- 
ten in  his  sacred  books  ;  eyes  the  golden  chain  let  down  from 
Paradise  to  him  with  wonder  and  delight;  is  dangled  in  this  film, 
this  cobweb  of  his  brain  like  a  puppet ;  and  his  savage  and  mere 
animal  nature  is  cowed  and  subjected  by  his  higher  imaginative 
and  abstracted  nature,  just  a's  he  himself  curbs  and  bends  the 
camel  or  the  wild  ass  of  the  Desert  to  his  purposes  ! 

The  General-in-Chief  went  to  celebrate  the  feast  of  the  Prophet 
at  the  house  of  the  Scheik  El-Bekir.  The  ceremony  was  begun 
by  the  recital  of  a  kind  of  litany,  containing  the  life  of  Mahomet 
from  his  birth  to  his  death.  About  a  hundred  Scheiks  sitting  in 
a  circle,  on  carpets,  with  their  legs  crossed,  recited  all  the  verses, 
swinging  their  bodies  violently  backwards  and  forwards,  and  all 
together.  A  magnificent  dinner  was  afterwards  served  up,  at 
which  the  guests  sat  on  carpets  with  their  legs  across.  There 
were  twenty  tables,  and  five  or  six  people  at  each  table.     Tha« 


36  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

of  the  General-in-Chief  and  the  Scheik  El-Bekir  was  in  the  mid- 
dle :  a  little  slab  of  a  precious  kind  of  wood,  ornamented  with 
mosaic  work,  was  raised  eighteen  inches  above  the  floor,  and 
covered  with  a  great  number  of  dishes  in  succession.  There 
were  pilaws  of  rice,  a  particular  kind  of  roasted  meat,  entries, 
and  pastry,  all  very  highly  spiced.  The  Scheiks*  picked  every- 
thing with  their  fingers  ;  accordingly,  water  was  brought  to  wash 
their  hands  three  times  during  dinner.  Gooseberry-water,  lem- 
onade, and  other  sorts  of  sherbet  were  served  to  drink,  and  abun- 
dance of  conserves  and  confectionary  with  the  desert.  The  din- 
ner was  not  disagreeable  to  the  French  guests  ;  it  was  only  the 
manner  of  eating  it  that  seemed  strange  to  them.  In  the  evening, 
the  whole  city  of  Cairo  was  illuminated.  After  dinner  the  party 
went  into  the  square  of  El-Bekir ;  the  illumination  of  which,  in 
colored  glass,  was  exceedingly  beautiful.  An  immense  concourse 
of  people  were  present.  They  were  all  placed  in  order,  in  ranks 
of  from  twenty  co  a  hundred  persons,  who,  standing  close  together, 
recited  the  prayers  and  litany  of  the  Prophet,  with  movements 
which  kept  increasing  until  at  length  they  became  quite  convul- 
sive, and  some  of  the  most  zealous  fainted  away.  In  the  course 
of  the  year,  the  General-in-Chief  often  accepted  invitations  to  din- 
ner with  the  Scheik  Sadda,  the  Scheik  Fayon,  and  others  of  the 
principal  Scheiks.  The  days  chosen  were  different  festivals. 
The  same  magnificence  prevailed  at  all  their  entertainments, 
which  were  conducted  in  nearly  a  similar  manner. 

Buonaparte  did  not  ever  (as  has  been  idly  asserted)  pretend  to 
be  a  convert  to  the  Mahometan  religion  ;  he  merely  avowed  what 
he  probably  felt,  a  high  opinion  of  its  founder,  and  treated  its 
ceremonies  with  respect  and  decorum.  There  seems  however,  at 
one  time,  to  have  been  a  sort  of  tampering  on  the  subject,  as  if  he 
had  a  desire  to  become  a  catechumen  ;  and  the  points  of  abstinence 
from  wine  and  circumcision  were  stated  as  difficulties  in  the  way 
of  such  an  arrangement,  which  the  Scheiks  however  thought  might 
be  dispensed  with,  as  not  essential  parts  of  the  religion.  This  was 
nc;  good  policy;  instead  of  deceiving  these  subtle  and  sagacious 
casir.sts,  it.  would  give  them  a  bad  opinion  of  the  sincerity  of  the 
French  Commander  in  other  respects.    To  turn  renegado  was  more 

*  The  Doctors  of  the  Law   descended  from  the  Arabs  and  the  Prophet. 


SITUATION  OF  EGYPT.  37 

than  was  requisite  to  be  admitted  into  the  country  on  a  friendly  or 
mercantile  footing ;  to  conquer  it,  it  was  not  enough.  If  then 
religion  was  so  excellent  as  to  call  for  this  mark  of  acquiescence, 
it  was  probable  that  their  laws  and  government  were  not  so  bad 
as  to  require  remodelling  by  the  hands  of  strangers;  and  before 
you  can  pretend  to  overturn  an  empire,  it  is  absolutely  necessary 
to  prove  that  you  are  either  stronger  or  wiser  than  the  conquered. 
Half-measures  will  not  do  for  extreme  cases  ;  and  where  there  is 
a  total  antipathy  of  sentiment  and  maxims,  one  party  or  the  other 
must  De  masters,  Buonaparte's  soldiers,  though  superior  to  any 
opposed  to  them,  were  a  mere  handful  compared  to  the  field  over 
which  they  had  to  act,  and  must  in  the  end  have  bit  the  dust ;  and 
their  chief  does  not  appear  to  have  possessed  any  spell  or  talis- 
manic  power  in  his  bretst  to  kindle  a  flame  through  the  East  or 
tame  its  raging  fires.  His  breath  had  not  the  force  to  stir  up  the 
sun-burnt  population  of  Asia  like  a  cloud  of  dust,  and  send  it  be- 
fore him  like  a  whirlwind  ;  and  without  this,  it  must  be  "  blown 
stifling  back  upon  himself!'"'  So  far  from  propagating  new  prin- 
ciples of  civilization  in  the  East,  it  was  his  object  to  crush  and 
neutralize  them  at  home  ;  and  instead  of  commencing  and  giving 
full  scope  to  a  new  era  in  society,  to  patch  up  and  lengthen  out 
the  old  one,  which  had  fallen  in  pieces  from  its  own  imperfections 
and  infirmity.  Bacchus  scattered  god-like  gifts  and  civilization 
in  the  East,  and  returned  from  the  conquest  of  India,  drawn  by 
panthers,  and  followed  by  troops  of  wild  men  and  women.  Alex- 
ander overturned  barbaric  thrones  by  martial  discipline,  and  fell 
a  martyr  to  the  intoxication  of  his  own  pride  and  passions.  Buo- 
naparte was  stopped  by  a  dismantled  fort  and  an  English  cruiser; 
and  turned  back  to  found  an  empire  in  the  West,  which  fell  upon 
he  founder's  head  because  it  was  neither  new  nor  old  ! 

While  the  General-in-Chief  merely  conformed  to  the  estab- 
lished worship  in  outward  appearance  and  from  policy,  General 
Menou  became  a  convert  in  good  earnest,  turned  Mahometan,  and 
married  a  lady  of  Rosetta,  whom  he  treated  after  the  French 
modes  of  gallantry.  He  gave  her  his  hand  to  enter  the  dining- 
room,  the  best  place  at  table,  the  choicest  dishes  ;  or  if  she  drop- 
ped her  handkerchief,  he  ran  to  pick  it  up.  She  related  these 
circumstanced  in  the  bath  at  Rosetta,  where  all  the  ^omen  meet; 

4 


38  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 

and  the  rest,  in  hopes  of  a  change  in  the  national  manners,  signed 
a  petition  to  Sultan  Kabir,  or  the  Fire-king  (so  they  called  Buo- 
naparte), that  their  husbands  should  be  obliged  to  treat  them  in 
the  same  manner.  A  Revolution  of  the  Harem  might  not  have 
been  the  least  feasible  project  thought  of.  The  women  in  the 
East  always  wear  a  veil  or  a  piece  of  cloth  to  hide  their  faces. 
If  taken  by  surprise,  they  will  make  use  of  any  other  part  of 
their  dress  sooner  than  let  their  faces  be  exposed.  Marriage  in 
general  takes  place  without  either  party  having  seen  the  other; 
or  at  least  without  the  husband  having  seen  the  wife.  The  dress 
of  the  Oriental  people  is  both  becoming,  easy,  and  magnificent. 
Their  necks  and  limbs  are  not  confined  by  bandages  or  garters ; 
a  native  of  the  East  may  remain  a  month  in  his  clothes  without 
feeling  fatigued  by  them.  The  little  hats  of  the  French,  their 
tight  breeches,  close  coats,  and  the  stocks  which  strangled  them, 
were,  as  they  well  might  be.  objects  of  laughter  and  aversion  to 
them.  The  freedom  and  looseness  of  the  female  dress  makes  a 
greater  contrast  in  this  respect  in  Europe ;  and  the  use  of  the 
beard  in  remote  climes  or  periods  may  be  supposed  to  date  the 
distinction  of  manhood  more  pointedly  from  its  growth. 

The  plague  appears  first  on  the  coast  of  Egypt,  and  occurs  al- 
ways in  winter.  "When  it  broke  out.  the  army  adopted  the  pre- 
cautions used  at  Marseilles;  which  were  wholly  unknown  to  the 
natives,  but  of  the  utility  of  which  they  became  at  length  sensi- 
ble. Egypt  is  in  general  extremely  healthy,  and  the  soldiers 
were  chiefly  incommoded  by  diseases  of  the  eyes.  This  disorder 
is  attributed  to  two  causes,  first  the  sand  and  dust,  and  sec- 
ondly to  the  checking  of  the  perspiration,  produced  by  very  cold 
nights  succeeding  very  hot  days.  It  is  evidently  owing  in  some 
way  to  the  climate.  St.  Louis,  on  his  return  from  the  Holy  Laud 
in  1250.  brought  back  a  multitude  of  blind;  and  it  was  this  cir- 
cumstance that  gave  rise  to  the  establishment  of  the  hospital  of 
the  Qui'nr.c  Vingfa  at  Paris. 

Kgypt  i>  divided  from  Syria  to  the  east  by  the  Great  Desert, 
which  is  seventy-five  leagues,  or  seven  days'  journey  across. 


BATTLES   IN   SYRIA.  31 


CHAPTER    XX. 

THE    BATTLES    IN    1799    IN    SYRIA. 

Buonaparte  remained  during  the  rest  of  the  year  1798  at 
Cairo,  ripening  his  plans,  and  watching  the  progress  of  events. 
Soon  after  the  battle  of  the  Nile,  the  Porte,  no  longer  kept  in  awe 
by  the  French  fleet  or  else  alarmed  for  its  possessions  in  the  East. 
declared  war  against  France.  In  the  beginning  of  1799  the 
Turkish  armies  assembled,  one  at  Rhodes,  the  other  in  Syria, 
in  order  to  attack  the  French  in  Egypt.  They  were  to  act  in 
concert  in  the  month  of  May,  the  first  by  landing  at  Aboukir, 
the  second  by  crossing  the  Desert  which  divides  Syria  from 
Egypt.  In  the  beginning  of  January  news  arrived  that  Gezzar 
Pacha  had  been  appointed  Seraskier  of  the  army  of  Syria  ;  that 
his  vanguard,  under  the  command  of  Abdallah,  had  already  ar- 
rived at  El-Arisch,  and  was  occupied  in  repairing  the  fort,  which 
may  be  considered  as  the  key  of  Egypt  on  the  Syrian  side.  A' 
train  of  artillery  of  forty  guns,  served  by  1200  cannoneers  in  the 
European  manner,  had  been  landed  at  Jaffa  ;  considerable  maga- 
zines were  conveyed  to  that  town,  by  means  of  vessels  from 
Constantinople  ;  and  at  Gaza  stores  of  skins  to  hold  water  had 
been  collected,  sufficient,  it  was  said,  to  enable  a  large  army  to 
cross  the  Desert. 

Had  the  French  remained  stationary,  they  would  have  been 
attacked  by  both  armies  at  once  ;  and  it  was  also  to  be  appre- 
hended that  the  Turks  would  shortly  be  joined  by  a  body  of  Eu- 
ropean troops.  Thus  hemmed  in,  the  French  would  have  no 
retreat  open  to  them  by  sea,  as  they  had  no  fleet  ;  and  by  land, 
the  Desert  of  seventy-five  leagues,  which  separates  Syria  from 
Egypt,  was  not  passable  by  an  European  army  in  the  height  of 
the.  hoc  season.  It  was  therefore  the  business  of  the  French 
General  to  anticipate  his  enemies,  to  cross  the  Great  Desert  du- 


40  LIFE   OF  NAPOLEON. 

ring  the  winter,  to  possess  himself  by  a  coup-de-main  of  the  mag- 
azines  which  had  been  formed  en  the  coasts  of  Syria,  and  to  attack, 
and  if  possible  to  destroy  the  different  troops  in  succession  as  fast 
as  they  collected.  In  consequence  of  this  plan,  the  divisions  of 
the  army  of  Rhodes  were  obliged  to  hasten  to  the  relief  of  Syria; 
and  Egypt  not  being  threatened  on  that  side  remained  quiet,  which 
allowed  the  French  to  march  the  greater  part  of  their  troops  into 
Syria.  Had  the  attack  on  Acre  succeeded,  Buonaparte  had  it  in 
contemplation  (at  least  as  no  impossible  event)  to  have  menaced 
Constantinople  with  an  army  of  25,000  French,  and  100.000 
auxiliaries,  Arabs,  Copts,  the  Druses  of  Mount  Lebanon,  the 
Christians  of  Syria  ;  and  after  establishing  an  amicable  under- 
standing with  the  Porte,  to  march  on  the  Indus  and  effect  the  con 
quest  of  India.  The  object  of  the  expedition  would  thus  have 
been  completely  fulfilled  by  driving  the  English  out  of  their 
Eastern  possessions  ;  but  this  splendid  structure  was  built  on  the 
sand.  Buonaparte  had  already  tried  to  open  a  communication 
with  Tippoo  Saib,  by  a  letter  dated  the  25th  of  January  in  this 
year;  but  of  course  the  negociation  never  came  to  anything. 
On  the  9th  of  February,  a  little  before  he  left  Cairo,  it  appears 
by  a  letter  to  the  Executive  Directory,  that  he  had  celebrated  the 
commencement  of  the  Ramadan  with  the  greatest  pomp,  and  per- 
formed the  same  functions  as  were  performed  by  the  Pacha  on 
that  occasion.  General  Desaix  was  at  this  period  in  Upper  Egypt 
lighting  with  Murad-Bey,  10(1  leagues  from  Cairo,  near  the  Cata- 
racts, where  he  had  explored  the  ruins  of  Thebes;  General  Bon 
was  at  Suez.  Buonaparte,  in  all  his  letters  to  the  Directory, 
manifests  great  uneasiness  at  not  hearing  news  from  France,  re- 
specting  which  he  seems  to  have  been  kept,  either  by  design  or 
accident,  very  much  in  the  dark.  A  Ragusan  ship  which  arrived 
at  Alexandria,  having  on  board  one  Citizen  Ilarnelin  with  some 
broken  files  of  Italian  journals.  gave  him  a  new  light  on  the  sub- 
ject. "  If,''  he  writes  to  the  Executive  Directory,  '•  in  the  course 
of  March,  Citizen  Ham? litis  report  should  be  confirmed  to  me,  and 
France  should  be  at  war  with  the  Kings,  I  shall  return  to  Europe/' 
He  at  the  same  time  urges  the  necessity  of  reinforcements,  ana 
complains  of  the  number  of  enemies   he   has  to    contend  with— 


BATTLES   IN    SYRIA.  41 

Deserts,  inhabitants  of  the  country,  Arabs,  Mamelukes,  Russians, 
Turks,  and  English. 

Buonaparte  had  addressed  two  letters  to  Gezzar  Pacha  in  the 
latter  end  of  the  preceding  year;  the  only  answer  he  gave  was  in 
the  first  instance  to  use  the  messenger  ill,  and  in  the  second  to 
cut  his  head  off.  The  French  at  Acre  were  seized  and  treated 
in  a  barbarous  manner.  The  Pacha  also  issued  a  number  of 
proclamations,  in  which  he  called  on  the  people  of  Egypt  to  re- 
volt, and  announced  his  speedy  approach.  Home  months  after 
his  vanguard  took  up  a  position  at  El-Arisch,  a  fort  situated  on 
the  borders  of  the  Desert,  six  leagues  within  the  Egyptian  terri- 
tory. The  French  General  no  longer  hesitated,  but  determined 
to  carry  the  war  into  the  enemy's  country  without  delay.  On 
the  4th  of  February  General  Reynier  joined  the  vanguard  under 
General  Lagrange,  stationed  at  Catieh,  three  days'  journey  in 
the  Desert,  where  Buonaparte  had  ordered  considerable  maga- 
zines to  be  collected,  and  where  General  Kleber  soon  after  arrived 
from  Damietta.  Two  days  after,  the  Army  set  out  from  Catieh 
(hi  its  march  across  the  Desert  to  El-Arisch.  during  which  for 
several  days  no  water  was  to  be  found.  The  difficulties  which 
arose  on  every  side  were  borne  with  great  patience;  and  the  ene- 
my was  attacked  and  driven  from  the  village  of  El-Arisch.  and 
the  whole  of  his  vanguard  shut  up  in  the  Fort.  In  the  mean  time, 
Gezzar  Pacha's  cavalry,  with  a  body  of  infantry,  having  got  into 
the  rear  of  the  army,  and  taken upa  position  about  a  league  off.  Kle- 
ber directed  General  Reynier  to  make  a  sudden  movement,  and  at 
midnight  the  enemy's  camp  was  surrounded,  attacked,  and  taken. 
with  a  quantity  of  baggage  and  several  prisoners.  It  was  neces- 
sary to  open  regular  trenches  before  the  fort;  a  heavy  cannonade 
was  commenced  against  it.  On  the  18th  at  noon,  a  practicable 
breach  was  made,  and  the  commandant  was  summoned  to  surren- 
der, which  he  did.  Three  hundred  horses,  much  biscuit  and  rice 
were  found  at  El-Arisch,  together  with  500  Albanians.  500  Mau- 
grabins,  and  200  men  from  Adonia  and  Caramania  ;  the  Maugra- 
bins  entered  into  the  French  service,  and  Buonaparte  made  an 
auxiliary  corps  of  them.  On  leaving  Kl-Arisch.  the  vanguard 
lost  its  way  in  the  Desert,  and  suffered  much  lor  want  of  water. 
The  provisions  failing,  the  troops  were  obliged  to  eat  horses,  mules, 

4* 


42  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEOX. 

and  camels.  On  tlie  24th  they  came  to  the  pillars  placed  to  mark 
the  boundaries  of  Africa  and  Asia,  and  lay  that  night  in  Asia. 
The  following  day  the  army  marched  on  Gaza;  and  at  10  in  t lie 
morning  saw  8000  or  4000  cavalry  advancing  towards  them. 
Murat's  cavalry  having  passed  a  number  of  torrents  in  sight  of  the 
enemy.  Kleber's  division  and  Lannes's  light  infantry,  which  sup- 
ported the  movement  of  the  cavalry,  charged  the  enemy  near  the 
height  which  overlooks  Hebron,  and  where  Samson  carried  off  the 
gates  of  Gaza.  The  Mussulmans  did  not  await  the  charge,  but 
fell  back,  having  some  men  killed,  among  others  the  Pacha's 
Kiaya.  The  22d  light  infantry  behaved  extremely  well,  and  fol- 
lowed the  cavalry  running,  though  many  days  had  elapsed  since 
they  had  made  a  good  meal  or  drank  their  fill  of  water.  Gaza 
contained  powder,  military  stores,  shells,  implements,  vast  supplies 
of  biscuit,  and  six  pieces  of  cannon. 

The  weather  now  became  dreadful,  with  thunder  and  rain,  the 
first  the  army  had  encountered  since  its  leaving  Europe.  Febru- 
ary 28,  they  slept  at  Eswod.  the  ancient  Azot.  and  on  the  29th  at 
I'ameh.  which  the  enemy  had  evacuated  precipitately,  leaving 
behind  him  100,000  rations  of  biscuit,  a  still  greater  quantity  of 
barley,  and  1500  water-skins,  which  Gezzar  had  prepared  in 
order  to  pass  the  Desert. 

Kleber's  division  was  the  first  that  invested  Jaffa;  Bon  and 
Lannes  came  up  afterwards.  The  town  was  defended  by  ah  >ut 
forty  pieces  of  cannon,  which  were'  unmasked  from  all  points 
ami  kept  up  a  well-sustained  fire.  On  the  Gth  of  March,  the 
French  having  fixed  their  batteries  and  mortars,  the  garrison 
made  a  .</>/•' ir  ;  a  cmwd  of  men.  in  various  costumes  and  of  all 
colors,  were  then  seen  marching  out.  Maugrabins,  Albanians, 
Kurds,  Natolians.  Caramanians,  Damascenes,  natives  of  Aleppo, 
and  blacks  from  Tekrour.  Thev  were,  however,  briskly  re- 
buked, and  returned  with  mere  expedition  than  they  came. 
Duroc,  at  that  time  aide-de-camp  to  the  General-in-Chief,  par- 
ticularly distinguished  himself  in  this  adventure.  At  break  of 
day  Duona:  arte  caused  the  Governor  to  he  summoned,  who  had 
his  messenger's  head  struck  off  and  sent  no  answer.  At  seven 
o'clock  the  firing  commenced,  and  in  an  hour  Buonaparte  judged 
the  breach  practicable.     General  Lannes  made  the  dispositions  for 


BATTLES   IN    SYRIA.  43 

the  assault.  The  Adjutant-General's  assistant,  Neterwood,  and 
ten  carbineers  first  mounted  the  breach,  followed  by  three  com- 
panies of  grenadiers,  under  General  Rambaud.  At  five  the  as- 
sailants were  masters  of  the  town,  which  was  for  twenty-four 
hours  given  up  to  pillage  and  all  the  horrors  of  war.  Four 
thousand  of  Gezzar's  soldiers  were  put  to  the  sword,  and  a  num- 
ber of  the  inhabitants  were  massacred. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  days  several  ships  arrived  from  St.  Jean 
d'Acre  with  military  stores  and  provisions;  they  were  seized  in 
the  port.  Abd-Oullah,  Gezzar's  General,  had  the  address  to 
conceal  himself  among  the  people  from  Egypt,  and  to  go  and 
throw  himself  at  Buonaparte's  feet.  The  latter  sent  to  Damascus 
and  Aleppo  more  than  500  persons  belonging  to  those  two  cities, 
as  well  as  between  400  and  500  persons  into  Egypt.  He  pardon- 
ed the  Mamelukes  and  Kiaschefs  whom  he  took  at  El-Arisch  • 
he  pardoned  also  Omar-Mackram,  Scheik  of  Cairo;  he  was  mer- 
ciful towards  the  Egyptians  as  well  as  towards  the  people  of 
Jaffa,  but  severe  towards  the  garrison  which  suffered  itself  to  be 
taken  with  arms  in  its  hands.  The  French  found  at  Jaffa  fifty 
pieces  of  cannon,  thirty  of  which  were  of  European  make,  be- 
sides immense  stores  of  provisions.  The  siege  was  conducted  by 
Caffarelli,  who  afterwards  fell  at  Acre;  Colonel  Lejeune,  who 
was  killed  in  mounting  the  breach,  was  deeply  regretted  by  his 
corps  and  by  the  army. 

It  was  from  Jaffa  that  Buonaparte  dated  two  of  his  most  fa- 
mous letters,  the  one  addressed  to  the  inhabitants  of  Palestine, 
the  other  to  Gezzar  Pacha;  which  deserve  insertion  here,  as 
specimens  of  his  manner  of  adopting  the  energetic  and  imposing 
style  of  Eastern  composition.      They  are  as  follows  : — 

"  General  Buonaparte  to  the  Scheiks,   Ulemas,  and  other  In- 
habitants of  the  Provinces  of  Gaza,  Ramlth,  and  Jaffa. 

"Jaffa,  19th  Ventose,  year  VII. 
March  9,  1799. 

;'  God  is  forgiving  and  merciful  ! 

••  L  write  the  present  letter  to  inform  you  that  I  am  come  into 
Palestine  to  drive  out  the  Mamelukes  and  the  army  of  Gezzar 
Pacha. 


44  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 

'•  By  what  right  has  Gezzar  extended  his  inroads  into  the  pro- 
vinces of  Jaffa.  Remleh,  and  Gaza,  which  are  no  part  of  his 
Paehaship  ?  Or  by  what  right  did  he  send  his  troops  to  El- 
Arisch  ?  lie  lias  provoked  me  to  war  ;  I  have  brought  it  to  him  ; 
but  it  is  not  un  you,  inhabitants,  that  I  intend  to  inflict  its  horrors. 

"Remain  quiet  in  your  homes;  let  those  who  have  quitted 
them  through  fear  return  to  them;  I  will  grant  to  everyone  the 
property  he  possesses. 

••  It  is  my  intention  that  the  Cadis  shall  continue  their  functions 
as  usual,  and  dispense  justice  ;  that  religion,  in  particular,  shall  be 
protected  and  revered  ;  and  that  the  mosques  shall  be  frequented 
by  all  good  Mussulmans;  it  is  from  God  that  all  good  things 
come;  it  is  he  who  gives  the  victory. 

"  It  is  proper  that  you  should  know  that  all  human  efforts  are 
useless  against  me  ;  for  all  that  I  undertake  is  destined  to  suc- 
ceed. Those  who  declare  themselves  my  friends,  prosper;  those 
who  declare  themselves  my  enemies,  perish.  The  example  of 
what  has  just  occurred  at  Jaffa  and  Gaza,  ought  to  teach  you  that 
if  I  am  terrible  to  my  enemies,  I  am  kind  to  my  friends,  and, 
above  all,  benevolent  and  merciful  to  the  ]50or. 

(Signed)  BuOXAPARTE." 

The  letter  to  Gezzar  Pacha  bears  the  same  date,  and  runs 
thus: — 

:(  Since  my  entrance  into  Egypt  I  have  several  times  informed 
you  that  it  was  not  my  intention  to  make  war  upon  you.  but  that 
mv  only  object  was  to  drive  out  the  Mamelukes  ;  you  have  not 
answered  any  of  the  proposals  I  have  made  to  vou. 

'■  I  apprised  you  that  I  wished  you  to  remove  Lbrahim-Bev  from 
the  frontiers  of  Egypt;  but  far  from  doing  so,  you  have  sent 
troops  to  Gaza,  collected  great  magazines.  publi>hed  on  all  sides 
that  you  were  about  to  enter  Egypt  ;  and  at  length  carried  this 
invasion  into  effect  by  sending  2000  of  your  men  to  the  fort  of 
El-Arisch,  six  leagues  within  the  territory  of  Egvpt.  It,  then  lie- 
came  incumbent  on  me  to  set  out  from  Cairo,  and  bring  home  to 
you  the  war  which  you  seem  to  provoke. 

"  The  provinces  of  Gaza,  Ramleh,  and  J  alia  are  in  my  power. 


BATTLES  IN  SYRLA.  43 

I  have  treated  those  of  your  troops  who  placed  themselves  at  my 
mercy  with  generosity  :  I  have  treated  those  who  had  violated  the 
laws  of  war  with  severity.  I  shall  march  in  a  few  days  on  St. 
Jean  d'Acre.  But  why  should  I  deprive  an  old  man  whom  I  do 
not  know  of  a  few  years  of  life  ?  What  signify  a  few  leagues 
more  by  the  side  of  the  countries  I  have  conquered  ?  And  since 
God  gives  me  the  victory,  I  will,  like  him,  be  forgiving  and  mer- 
ciful, not  only  towards  the  people,  but  towards  the  great  also. 

"  You  have  no  real  reason  to  be  my  enemy,  for  you  were  the 
foe  of  the  Mamelukes.  Your  Pachaship  is  separated  from  Egvpt 
by  the  provinces  of  Gaza  and  Ramleh,  and  by  immense  deserts. 
Become  my  friend  once  more,  be  the  enemy  of  the  Mamelukes 
and  English,  and  I  will  do  you  as  much  good  as  I  have  done  and 
can  do  you  harm.  Send  me  your  answer  by  a  man  furnished 
with  full  powers  and  acquainted  with  your  intentions.  Let  him 
present  himself  to  my  vanguard  with  a  white  flag:  I  give  an 
order  to  my  staff  to  send  you  a  safe  conduct,  which  you  will  find 
annexed. 

"  On  the  24th  of  this  month  I  shall  march  against  St.  Jean 
d'Acre ;  I  must  therefore  have  your  answer  before  that  day. 

(Signed)  Bcoxaparte." 

With  the  name  of  Jaffa  are  connected  two  of  the  ugliest  charges 
ever  brought  against  Buonaparte,  those  of  massacring  the  Turkish 
prisoners  and  poisoning  his  own  troops  in  the  hospital  there  ; 
which  were  for  a  long  time  repeated  with  no  less  confidence  than 
success,  and  which  have  since  been  proved,  and  indeed  acknow- 
ledged by  the  persons  chiefly  concerned  in  propagating  them,  to 
be  as  groundless  as  they  were  odious.  The  truth  with  respect  to 
each  of  them  appears  to  have  been  this,  which  cannot  be  given 
better  than  in  his  own  words  : 

"  1  asked  the  Emperor  then  if  he  had  ever  read  Miot's  History 
of  the  Expedition  to  Egypt?  '  What,  the  Commissary?'  he  re- 
plied ;  '  I  believe  Las  Cases  gave  me  a  copy;  moreover,  it  was 
published  in  my  time.'  He  then  desired  me  to  bring  the  one 
which  I  had,  that  he  might  compare  them.  He  observed,  '  Miot 
was  a  polisson,  whom,  together  with  his  brother,  I  raised  from  the 
dirt.     He  says  that  I  threatened  him  for  writing  the  book,  which 


Ab  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


is  a  falsehood.  I  said  to  his  brother  once  that  he  might  as  well 
not  have  published  untruths.  He  was  a  man  who  had  always 
fear  before  his  eyes.  What  does  he  say  about  the  poisoning  af- 
fair and  the  shooting  at  Jaffa  V  I  replied,  that  as  to  the  poison- 
ing, Miot  declared  he  could  say  no  more  than  that  such  had  been 
the  current  report ;  but  that  he  positively  asserted  that  he  (Na- 
poleon) had  caused  between  three  and  four  thousand  Turks  to  be 
shot  some  days  after  the  capture  of  Jaffa.  Napoleon  answered, 
'  It  is  not  true  that  there  were  so  many.  I  ordered  about  a  thou- 
sand or  twelve  hundred  to  be  shot  which  was  done.  The  reason 
was,  that  amongst  the  garrison  of  Jaffa  a  number  of  Turkish 
troops  were  discovered  whom  I  had  taken  a  short  time  before  at 
El-Arisch,  and  sent  to  Bagdat  upon  their  parole  not  to  serve  again 
or  to  be  found  in  arms  against  me  for  a  year.  I  had  caused  them 
to  be  escorted  twelve  leagues  on  their  way  to  Bagdat  bv  a  divis- 
ion of  my  army.  But  those  Turks,  instead  of  proceeding  to  Bag- 
dat, threw  themselves  into  Jaffa,  defended  it  to  the  last,  and  cost 
me  a  number  of  brave  men  to  take  it,  whose  lives  would  have 
been  spared,  if  the  others  had  not  reinforced  the  garrison  of  Jaffa. 
M  ireover,  before  I  attacked  the  town.  I  sent  them  a  flag  of  truce. 
Immediately  afterwards  we  saw  the  head  of  the  bearer  elevated 
on  a  pole  over  the  wall.  Now  if  I  had  spared  them  again,  and 
sent  them  away  upon  their  parole,  they  would  directly  have  gone  to 
St.  Jean  d'Acre,  where  they  would  have  played  me  over  again  the 
same  trick  that  they  had  done  at  Jaffa.  In  justice  to  the  lives  of 
mv  soldiers,  as  every  general  ought  to  consider  himself  as  their 
father  and  them  as  his  children,  I  could  not  allow  this.  To  leave 
as  a  guard  a  portion  of  my  army,  already  small  and  reduced  in 
number  in  consequence  of  the  breach  of  faith  of  those  wretches 
was  impossible.  Indeed,  to  have  acted  otherwise  than  I  did,  would 
ppibablv  have  caused  the  destruction  of  my  whole  armv.  I  there- 
fore, availing  myself  of  the  rights  of  war.  which  authorize  putting 
to  death  prisoners  taken  under  such  circumstances,  independent 
of  the  right  given  to  me  by  having  taken  the  city  bv  assault,  and 
'hat  of  retaliation  on  the  Turks  fbr  having  slaughtered  my  mes- 
senger, ordered  thai  the  prisoners  taken  at  El-Arisch,  who  in  de- 
fiance of  their  capitulati  m  had  been  found  bearing  arms  against 
me,  should   be  singled  out  and    shot.     The  rest,  amounting   to  a 


BATTLES  IN  SYRIA.  47 

considerable  number,  were  spared.  I  would,'  continued  he,  'do 
the  same  thing  again  to-morrow,  and  so  would  any  General  com- 
manding an  army  under  similar  circumstances.' 

"  '  Previous  to  leaving  Jaffa,'  continued  Napoleon,  '  and  after 
the  greatest  number  of  the  sick  and  wounded  had  been  embarked, 
it  was  reported  to  me  that  there  were  some  men  in  the  hospital  so 
dangerously  ill  as  not  to  allow  of  their  being  removed.  I  imme- 
diately ordered  the  chiefs  of  the  medical  staff  to  consult  together 
on  what  was  best  to  be  done,  and  to  deliver  their  opinion  on  the 
subject.  Accordingly  they  met,  and  found  that  there  were  seven 
or  eight  men  so  dangerously  ill,  that  they  conceived  it  impossible 
for  them  to  recover ;  and  also  that  they  could  not  exist  twenty- 
four  or  thirty-six  hours  longer  ;  that  moreover,  being  afflicted 
with  the  plague,  they  would  spread  that  disease  among  all  those 
who  approached  them.  Some  of  them,  who  were  sensible,  per- 
ceiving that  they  were  about  to  be  abandoned,  demanded  with 
earnest  entreaties  to  be  put  to  death.  Larrey  was  of  opinion  that 
recovery  was  impossible,  and  that  these  poor  fellows  could  not 
exist  many  hours  ;  but  as  they  might  linger  long  enough  to  be 
alive  when  the  Turks  entered,  and  be  subjected  to  the  dreadful 
tortures  which  they  were  accustomed  to  inflict  upon  their  prison- 
ers, he  thought  it  would  be  an  act  of  charity  to  comply  with  their 
desires  and  accelerate  their  end  by  a  few  hours.  Desgenettes  did 
not  approve  of  this,  and  replied  that  his  profession  was  to  cure  the 
sick  and  not  to  dispatch  them.  Larrey  came  to  me  immediately 
afterwards,  informed  me  of  the  circumstances  and  of  what  Des- 
genettes had  said,  adding  that  perhaps  Desgenettes  was  right. 
But.  proceeded  Larrey,  those  men  cannot  live  for  more  than  a  few 
hours,  twenty-four  or  thirty-six  at  most,  and  if  you  will  leave  a 
rearguard  of  cavalry  to  stay  and  protect  them  from  advanced 
parties  that  will  be  sufficient.  Accordingly  I  ordered  four  or  five 
hundred  cavalry  to  remain  behind,  ^.iu  not  to  quit  the  place  until 
all  were  dead.  They  did  remain,  and  informed  me  that  all  had 
expired  before  they  left  the  town  ;  but  I  have  heard  since,  that 
Sidney  Smith  found  one  or  two  alive  when  he  entered  it.  This 
is  the  truth  of  the  business.  Wilson  himself,  I  dare  say,  knows 
now  that  he  was  mistaken.  Sir  Sidney  Smith  never  asserted  any 
thing  of  the  kind.     I  have  no  doubt  that  this  story  of  the  poison- 


48  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON. 

ing  originated  in  something  said  by  Desgenettes,  who  was  a  bavard, 
which  was  afterwards  misconceived  or  incorrectly  repeated. 
Desgenettes  was,  however,  a  good  man,  and  notwithstanding  his 
having  given  rise  to  this  story,  I  was  not  offended,  and  had  him 
near  my  person  in  different  campaigns  afterwards.  Not  that  I 
think  it  would  have  been  a  crime,  had  opium  been  administered  ; 
on  the  contrary  I  think  it  would  have  been  a  virtue.  To  leave  a 
few  unfortunate  beings  who  could  not  recover,  in  order  that  they 
might  be  massacred  by  the  Turks  with  the  most  dreadful  tor- 
ments, as  was  their  custom,  would,  I  think,  have  been  cruelty. 
A  General  ought  to  act  with  his  soldiers  as  he  would  wish 
should  be  done  to  himself.  Now,  would  not  any  man  under  simi- 
lar circumstances,  who  retained  his  senses,  have  preferred  dying 
easily  a  few  hours  sooner,  rather  than  expire  under  the  tortures 
of  those  barbarians  ?  You  have  been  amongst  the  Turks  and 
know  what  they  are  ;  I  ask  you  now  to  place  yourself  in  the 
situation  of  one  of  those  sick  men,  and  that  you  were  asked  whicn 
you  would  prefer ;  to  be  left  to  suffer  the  tortures  of  those  mis- 
creants, or  to  have  opium  administered  to  you  V  I  replied,  most 
undoubtedly  I  should  prefer  the  latter.  '  Certainly,  so  would  any 
man,'  answered  Napoleon  ;  '  if  my  own  son  (and  I  believe  I  love 
my  son  as  well  as  any  father  does  his  child)  were  in  a  similar 
situation  with  those  men,  I  would  advise  it  to  be  done  ;  and  if  so 
situated  myself,  I  would  insist  upon  it,  if  I  had  sense  enough  and 
strength  enough  left  10  demand  it.  But,  however,  affairs  were 
not  so  pressing  as  to  prevent  my  leaving  a  party  to  take  care  of 
them,  which  was  done.  If  I  had  thought  such  a  measure  as  that 
of  giving  opium  unavoidable,  I  should  have  called  a  council  of 
war.  have  stated  the  necessity  of  it,  and  have  published  it  in  the 
order  of  the  day.  It  should  have  been  no  secret.  Do  you  think 
that  if  I  had  been  capable  of  secretly  poisoning  my  soldiers  (as 
doing  a  necessary  action  secretly  would  give  it  the  appearance 
of  a  crime),  or  of  such  barbarities  as  driving  mv  carriage  over 
the  dead  or  the  still  bleeding  bodies  of  the  wounded,  that  my 
troops  would  have  fought  for  me  with  an  enthusiasm  and  an  affec- 
tion without  a  parallel  ?  No,  no.  I  never  should  have  done  so 
a  second  time.     Thev  would  have  shot  me   in  passing.     Even 


BATTLES   IN   SYRIA.  42 

some  of  the  wounded,  who  had  sufficient  strength  left  to  pull  a 
trigger,  would  have  dispatched  me.'" 

Such  is  the  account  given  hy  O'Meara  of  Buonaparte's  con- 
versation with  him  on  this  subject,  which,  independently  of  other 
proof,  carries  its  own  evidence  with  it.  Yet  it  was  one  of  those 
charges  which,  insisted  upon  for  a  number  of  years  with  every 
circumstance  of  aggravation,  gangrened  the  public  mind  and 
swelled  the  war-whoop  against  him,  whenever  a  plea  was  wanted. 
In  proportion  to  the  odiousness  of  the  imputation  was  the  natural 
horror  it  excited,  and  the  firm  conviction  entertained  of  the  truth 
of  this  phantom  of  a  heated  imagination.  The  Engl.ih  are  too 
ready  to  give  ear  to  charges  against  their  enemies  ;  and  from  this 
weakness  in  their  character,  every  adventurer  who  can  bring  an 
idle  tale  against  a  formidable  opponent  or  with  the  aid  of  half-a- 
dozen  venal  scribblers  stigmatize  him  with  an  opprobrious  nick- 
name, can  inflame  the  national  hostility  and  prejudices  to  a  state 
bordering  on  madness,  and  wield  the  power  of  ten  or  twelve  mil- 
lions of  people  to  any  purpose,  either  of  right  or  wrong,  that  the 
Government  pleases.  This  is  a  dangerous  engine  ;  and  the 
handle  that  has  been  made  of  it  in  this  instance  among  others 
should  shame  us  out  of  the  use  of  it.  Napoleon  attributes  to  the 
great  Lord  Chatham  a  saying  on  this  subject,  that  "  if  the  Gov- 
ernment were  to  deal  fairly  or  justly  with  France,  England  would 
not  exist  for  four-and-twenty  hours."  It  looks  as  if  this  senti- 
ment were  not  peculiar  to  him  ;  but  it  has  been  acted  upon  with 
tenfold  virulence  and  still  more  pernicious  effect  in  our  time. 

His  real  behavior  to  the  sick  at  Jaffa,  and  the  imminent  peril 
to  which  he  exposed  himself  to  calm  the  fears  of  the  army  at  the 
infection  which  broke  out  among  them,  form  a  striking  contrast 
to  the  foregoing  calumny.  The  soldiers  in  the  pillage  of  the 
place  having  plundered  the  houses  of  a  number  of  articles  of 
Turkish  dress  which  were  infected,  this  produced  the  plague 
among  them.  The  following  day  the  General-in-Chief  gave 
orders  that  every  soldier  should  bring  his  booty  into  the  square, 
when  all  the  articles  of  wearing  apparel  were  burnt.  But.  the 
disease  had  been  already  communicated.  He  caused  the  sick  to 
be  immediately  conveyed  to  the  hospitals,  where  those  infected 
with  the  plague  were  carefully  separated  from  the  rest.      For  a 

VOL.   II.  4  5 


SO  LIFE   OP   NAPOLEON. 

short  time  he  succeeded  in  persuading  the  troops  that  it  was  only 
a  fever  with  swellings,  and  not  the  plague ;  and  in  order  to  con- 
vince them  of  it,  he  went  publicly  to  the  bed-side  of  a  soldier  who 
was  infected,  and  touched  him.  This  had  a  great  effect  in 
encouraging  the  men ;  and  even  some  of  the  surgeons,  who  had 
abandoned  them,  became  ashamed  and  returned  to  their  duties. 


ST.  JEAN   D'ACRE  AND   ALEXANDRIA.  51 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

ST.    JEAN    D'ACRE    AND    ALEXANDRIA. 

Jaffa  is  situated  between  Gaza  and  St.  Jean  d'Acre,  the  road 
to  which  runs  nearly  along  the  sea-shore,  close  by  Mount  Car- 
mel,  on  the  top  of  which  there  is  a  convent  and  fountain,  and  a 
rock  with  the  print  of  a  man's  foot,  which  tradition  gives  out  to 
have  been  left  by  Elijah  when  he  ascended  to  heaven.  The 
heights  of  Richard  Cceur-de-Lion  are  about  half  a  mile  from  it. 

The  siege  of  St.  Jean  d'Acre  began  on  the  20th  of  March  ; 
and  from  this  period  till  the  1st  of  April  the  battering-train  con- 
sisted of  one  thirty-two-pounder  carronade,  which  Major  Lam- 
berl  had  taken  at  Caiffa  by  seizing  the  long-boat  of  the  Tiger  by 
main  force  ;  but  it  was  not  possible  to  make  use  of  it  with  the 
carriage  belonging  to  the  boat,  and  besides,  there  were  no  can- 
non balls.  These  difficulties  speedily  vanished.  In  twenty- four 
hours  the  park  of  artillery  constructed  a  carriage.  As  for  balls, 
Sir  Sidney  Smith  took  upon  himself  to  provide  them.  A  few 
horsemen  or  waggons  made  their  appearance  from  time  to  time  ; 
upon  which  the  English  Commodore*  approached  and  poured  in 
an  alternate  fire  from  all  his  tiers  ;  and  the  soldiers,  to  whom  the 
director  of  the  park  paid  five  sous  for  every  ball,  immediately 
ran  to  pick  them  up.  They  were  so  much  accustomed  to  this 
manoeuvre  that  they  would  go  and  fetch  them  in  the  midst  of  the 
cannonade  and  of  the  shouts  of  laughter  it  occasioned.  Some- 
times the  construction  of  a  battery  was  pretended  to  be  begun. 
Thus  the  besiegers  obtained  twelve  and  thirty-two  pounder  balls. 
They  had  powder,  which  had  been  brought  from  Cairo,  and  more 
had  been  found  at  Jaffa  and  Gaza.  The  total  of  their  means  in 
the  way  of  artillery  amounted  only  to  four  twelve-pounders,  pro- 

*  Sii  Sidney  Smith  was  cruising  off  Acre  with  the  English  fleet,  and 
ofteu  entered  the  town. 


LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


vided  with  two  hundred  rounds  each,  eight  howitzers,  a  thirty- 
two-pounder  carronade,  and  thirty  four-pounders.  The  engi- 
neer, General  Samson,  being  ordered  to  reconnoitre  the  town,  re- 
ported incorrectly  that  there  was  neither  counterscarp  nor  ditch, 
from  having  in  the  night  reached  a  wall,  which  he  had  mistaken 
for  the  rampart.  A  breach  was  made  in  tins  wall,  and  fifteen 
sappers  and  twenty-five  grenadiers,  with  Adjutant-General  Lau- 
gier  at  their  head,  were  ordered  to  clear  it,  but  on  coming  out  on 
the  other  side,  were  stopped  short  by  a  counterscarp  of  fifteen 
feet  and  a  ditch  several  yards  in  width.  Five  or  six  of  the  as- 
sailants were  wounded,  and  the  rest,  pursued  by  a  dreadful  fire 
of  musquetry,  regained  the  trench  pn  cipitately.  A  miner  was 
immediately  set  to  work  to  blow  up  the  counterscarp.  In  three 
days  tiie  mine  was  got  ready,  under  the  fire  of  the  ramparts  and 
of  a  great  quantity  of  mortars,  directed  by  excellent  gunners 
furnished  by  the  English  ships,  which  scattered  shells  in  all 
directions.  The  eight-inch  mortars  and  live  pieces  which  the 
English  had  taken  at  Aboukir,  now  strengthened  the  defence  of 
the  place.  On  the  25th  the  mine  was  sprung,  but  only  over- 
threw  half  of  the  counterscarp.  The  staff-officer  .Madly  was, 
however,  sent  forward  with  twenty-five  grenadiers  and  six  sap- 
pers, and  Laugier  with  two  battalions  hastened  to  support  the 
attack  ;  but  the  latter,  on  reaching  the  counterscarp,  met  the 
grenadiers  returning  with  the  news  that  the  trench  was  too  high 
by  some  feet,  and  that  Madly,  with  several  of  their  comrades, 
had  been  killed.  When  the  Turks  first  saw  this  young  officer 
fastening  the  ladder,  they  were  seized  with  terror  and  fled  to  the 
fort.  But  tiie  death  of  Mailly  frustrated  the  whole  operation  ; 
Laugier  was  also  killed  and  c  msiderable  loss  incurred  without 
any  benefit,  though  the  town  ought  to  have  been  taken  at  this 
time,  as  reinforcements  arrived  in  the  garrison  by  sea  dailv. 
S  ion  afterwards,  the  counterscarp  was  blown  up  by  a  new  mine 
sunk  fjr  that  purp  ise,  and  continued  under  the  ditch  in  order  to 
blow  up  the  whole  tower,  as  there  was  no  hope  of  getting  in  at 
the  breach,  which  had  been  filled  up  with  all  sorts  of  combusti- 
bles. The  English  and  Turks  stood  on  the  inside,  and  knocked 
the  fi:\v  stragglers  on  the  head  one  by  one  as  they  entered. 
About   this  time    tiie    garrison    made    a    sortie,  led    on    by    two 


ST.  JEAN   D'ACRE   AND   ALEXANDRIA.  53 

hundred   English,  but  they  were  repulsed  and  a  captain  of  ma- 
rines was  killed. 

It  was  during  the  progress  of  the  siege,  or  in  the  month  of 
April,  that  the  actions  of  Canaan,  Nazareth,  Saffet,  and  Mount 
Tabor  were  fought.  The  last  was  that  which  Kleber  admired  so 
much.  He  had  foretold  its  ill-success  to  Buonaparte,  and  done 
all  he  could  to  dissuade  him  from  it,  but  had  promised  to  come  up 
in  time  to  assist  him.  Buonaparte  sat  up  all  night  in  his  tent 
with  the  officers  sleeping  round  him.  He  sat  at  a  table  examin- 
ing maps  and  measuring  distances  with  a  pair  of  compasses. 
Every  now  and  then  he  mse  up,  went  to  the  opening  of  the  tent, 
either  to  breathe  the  fresh  air,  or  as  if  to  see  how  the  night  waned. 
With  the  first  streak  of  light  he  woke  the  officers,  and  by  ten 
o'clock  he  had  beaten  the  Turks,  when  Kleber  arrived  just  in 
time  to  compliment  him  on  his  victory. 

In  the  middle  of  April,  Rear-Admiral  Perre  had  arrived  at  Jaffa 
with  three  frigates  from  Alexandria  •  he  had  landed  two  mortars  and 
six  eighteen-pounders  at  Tintura.  Two  were  fixed  to  play  upon 
the  little  isle  that  flanked  the  breach,  and  the  four  others  were  di- 
rected against  the  ramparts  and  curtains  by  the  side  of  the  tower. 
On  the  25th  the  mine  was  sprung,  but  a  chamber  under  the  tower 
(which  had  been  filled  with  sand)  disappointed  the  besiegers,  and 
only  the  part  on  the  outside  was  blown  up.  The  effect  produced 
was  the  burying  two  or  three  hundred  Turks  and  a  few  pieces 
of  cannon  in  the  ruins,  for  they  had  embattled  and  occupied  every 
story  of  the  tower.  In  order  to  take  advantage  of  the  first  mo- 
ment of  surprise,  thirty  men  attempted  to  make  a  lodgment  in 
the  tower,  but  were  unable  to  proceed  beyond  the  lower  stories. 
On  the  20th  General  Devaux  was  wounded,  and  on  the  27th  Caf- 
farelli  died.  It  was  now  resolved  to  evacuate  the  place,  and  In- 
directing  the  batteries  against  this  tottering  tower,  to  destroy  it 
altogether.  From  this  period  the  besieged  perceived  that  if  tliev 
remained  longer  on  the  defensive,  they  were  lost.  The  imagina 
tion  of  the  Turks  was  struck  with  terror,  and  they  fancied  every 
spot  to  be  undermined.  A  reinforcement  of  3000  men  entered 
the  place,  and  Phelippeaux,  a  French  emigrant  officer,  formed 
lines  of  counter-attack  ;  they  began  at  Gezzar's  palace  and  the 
right  of  the  front  of  attack.      In  the  space  between  the  two,  the 


54  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

most  furious  contests  took  place  daily ;  sorties  were  made  with 
various  success,  the  besieged  sometimes  carrying  every  thing  be- 
fore them,  and  then  being  driven  back  again  with  great  loss  and 
disorder.  Dismay  and  death  wore  scattered  around.  From  the 
narrowness  of  the  space  and  the  numbers  engaged,  they  had 
hardly  room  to  do  all  the  mischief  they  would.  Sometimes  the 
combatants  in  the  trench,  either  from  the  putrid  smell  or  some 
other  cause,  being  seized  with  the  plague,  went  mad.  did  desper- 
ate deeds,  and  fell  dead  as  they  fought.  On  the  1st  of  May,  pos- 
session was  obtained  at  peep  of  dawn  of  the  most  salient  point  of 
the  counter-attack  by  twenty  French  volunteers  ;  and  at  the  same 
moment  the  English  and  Turks  made  a  sortie,  which  was  briskly 
repulsed  in  its  turn,  and  several  hundreds  killed.  A  mine  had 
been  already  carried  across  to  the  rampart  under  the  ditch,  when 
on  the  6th  the  garrison  debouched  by  a  sap  covered  by  the  fosse, 
surprised  the  mask  of  the  mine,  and  tilled  up  the  well.  On  the 
7th  the  town  received  a  reinforcement  of  fresh  troops.*  As  soon 
as  their  approach  was  made  known  by  signals,  it  was  calculated 
that  according  to  the  state  of  the  wind  they  could  not  land  for  six 
hours.  In  consequence  of  this  a  twenty-four  pounder  which  had 
been  sent  by  Rear-Admiral  Perre.  was  immediately  brought  into 
play,  which  battered  down  a  piece  of  the  wall  to  the  right  of  the 
tower.  At  night  the  French  troops  fought  their  wav  through  the 
breach,  and  had  gained  a  footing  in  the  place,  when  tiie  troops 
which  had  landed  appeared  in  formidable  numbers  to  renew  the 
battle.  Rambaud  was  killed,  and  a  great  many  fell  with  him; 
Lannes  was  wounded.  The  bes'eged  then  sallied  forth  bv  every 
gate  and  took  the  breach  in  rear;  but  they  were  attacked  in  turn 
and  cut  off.  The  prisoners  taken  were  armed  with  European 
bavonets  and  came  from  Constantinople.  Every  thing  appeared 
so  favorable,  that  on  the  10th,  at  two  in  the  m  irning,  Xaj 
ordered  a  new  assault.  General  Dubois  was  killed  in  thi 
skirmish  ;  and  on  advancing.  Gezzar's  house  and  all  the  avenui  s 
were  found  to  be  so  thronged  with  defenders,  that  the  soldiers 
could  not  pass  beyond  the  broach. 

*  Sir  Sidney  Smith's  account  is.  th:it  these  frequent  reinforcements  were 
in  part  imaginary.  Imt  tint  he  kept  up  a  continual  report  of  them  to  alarm 
and  discourage  the  enemy. 


ST.  JEAN    D'ACRE   AND   ALEXANDRIA.  53 

Under  these  circumstances,  what  was  to  he  done?  There 
eeemed  no  hope  of  carrying  the  place  by  a  coup-de-main ;  new 
succors  were  said  to  be  leaving  Rhodes;  the  French,  remote  as 
they  were  from  France  and  Egypt,  could  not  afford  fresh  losses  : 
they  had  already  1200  wounded,  and  the  plague  was  in  the  hos- 
pitals. Accordingly,  on  the  20th  the  siege  was  raised.  The  re- 
riistance  made  by  the  place  was  no  doubt  owing  to  a  spirit  foreign 
)  itself.  The  attack  was  obstinate  and  well-directed,  and  there 
was  a  proportionable  activity,  courage,  and  readiness  opposed  to  it. 
A  spirit  like  Ariel  flamed  on  every  part  of  the  walls,  and  a  master- 
hand  was  discernible  in  all  the  operations.  Sir  Sidney  Smith  is  a 
person  whose  only  fault  seems  to  be  a  constitutional  excess  of  activ- 
ity and  contrivance  ;  but  the  excess  of  these  qualities  is  repressed  in 
the  presence  of  the  enemy  or  when  life  or  honor  is  at  stake,  and  the 
original  impulse  remains  a  useful  spur  to  overcome  all  obstacles. 
Buonaparte  speaks  well  of  his  courage  and  character,  but  considers 
him  very  eccentric.  He  attributes  the  failure  of  the  attack  on  Acre 
to  his  taking  the  French  battering-train,  which  was  on  board  some 
small  vessels  in  the  harbor.  lie  blames  him  for  making  sorties, 
bv  which  he  lost  the  lives  of  some  hundreds  of  brave  men.  He 
dispersed  proclamations  among  the  troops  which  had  the  effect  of 
shaking  some  of  them,  and  Napoleon  in  consequence  published 
an  order,  stating  that  he  was  mad,  and  forbidding  all  communica- 
tion with  him.  Soon  after  lie  sent  a  lieutenant  or  a  midshipman 
with  a  letter  containing  a  challenge  to  meet  him  at  some  place  he 
pointed  out  in  order  to  fight  a  duel.  Buonaparte  laughed  at  this, 
and  sent  him  word  back  that  when  he  brought  .Marlborough  to 
fight  him,  he  would  think  of  it.  Sir  Sidney  displayed  considera- 
ble ability  in  the  treaty  for  the  evacuation  of  Egypt,  and  took 
advantage  of  the  discontent  which  prevailed  amongst  the  French 
troops  at  being  so  lung  absent  from  France,  and  other  circum 
stances.  He  also  manifested  great  honor  in  sending  immediately 
to  Kleber  to  apprise  him  of  Lord  Keith's  refusal  to  ratify  the 
treaty,  which  saved  the  French  army  ;  bad  he  kept  it  a  secret 
seven  or  eight  days  longer,  Cairo  would  have  been  given  up  to 
the.  Turks,  and  the  French  army  necessarily  obliged  to  surrender 
to  the  English.  He  also  evinced  equal  humanity  and  bonor  in 
his  behavior  to  the   French  who   fell    into    his   hands.      He  had 


3«  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

landed  at  Havre  in  consequence  of  some  foolish  bet  lie  made  that 
he  would  go  to  the  theatre  without  being  discovered.  He  was  ar- 
rested and  confined  in  the  Temple  as  a  spy,  and  at  one  time  it 
was  intended  to  try  and  execute  him,  as  a  paltry  revenge  for  the 
mischief  he  had  done  at  Toulon.  Captain  Wright  was  in  a  room 
immediately  over  his  head,  and  they  conversed  together  by  means 
of  signs.  Shortly  after  Buonaparte's  return  from  Italy,  he  wrote 
to  him  from  prison,  to  request  that  he  would  intercede  for  him  ; 
but  in  the  circumstances  in  which  he  was  taken,  nothing  could 
be  done  for  him.  Buonaparte  sums  up  the  character  of  his 
fortunate  antagonist  in  these  words:  '-'110  is  active,  intelligent, 
intriguing,  and  indefatigable  ;  but  I  believe  him  to  be  mezzo 
pazzo.'''* 

During  some  part  of  the  siege  of  Acre,  a  shell  thrown  from  the 
garrison  fell  at  Napoleon's  feet.  Two  soldiers  who  were  stand- 
ing near,  seized  and  closely  embraced  him,  making  a  rampart  of 
their  bodies  for  him  against  the  effects  of  the  shell,  which  explo- 
ded and  covered  them  with  sand.  They  all  three  sank  into  the 
hole  formed  by  its  bursting;  one  of  the  soldiers  was  wounded. 
He  made  them  both  officers.  One  of  them  lost  his  leg  at  Mos- 
cow, and  commanded  at  Vincennes  when  the  Allies  entered  Paris. 
When  summoned  by  the  Russians  to  surrender,  he  replied  that 
"as  soon  as  they  sen!  him  back  the  leg  lie  had  lost  at  Moscow,  he 
would  give  up  the  fortress."  This  man  came  from  Perigueux  in 
the  Dordonne,  and  survived  his  master,  whose  life  he  perhaps 
saved.  Manv  times  in  hi.-  life  Buonaparte  had  been  saved  bv  the 
soldiers  and  officers  throwing  themselves  before  him  when  he  was 
in  the  most  imminent  danger.  At  Arcole,  when  he  was  at  the 
head  of  a  desperate  charge,  his  aid-de-camp,  Colonel  Muiron, 
threw  himself  before  his  General,  covered  him  with  his  body,  and 
received  the  blow  which  was  aimed  at  him.  '•  He  fell  at  my 
feet,"  savs  Napoleon,  ••and  his  blood  spouted  up  in  mv  face. 
Never  vet,  I  believe,  has  l  ■  n   such  devotion  shown  bv  sol- 

diers, as  mine  have'  manil>  str-d  fa-  me.  In  ail  my  misfortunes 
never  has  the'  soldier,  even  win  n  expiring,  been  wanting  to  me — 
never  lias  man  been  served   in  ire  faithfully  by  his  troops.      With 

*  Hulf-mad. 


ST.   JEAN  D'ACRE  AND    ALEXANDRIA.  57 

the  last  drop  of  blood  gushing  out  of  their  veins,  they  exclaimed 
Vive  VEmpereur  /"* 

During  the  expedition  into  Syria,  the  inhabitants  of  Egypt  had 
conducted  themselves  in  an  orderly  manner.  Desaix  in  Upper 
Egypt  continued  to  repulse  the  attacks  of  the  Arabs,  and  to  secure 
the  country  from  the  attempts  of  Murad-Bey,  who  made  incur- 
sions  from  the  Desert  of  Nubia  into  different  parts  of  the  valley. 
Sir  Sidney  Smith  had  caused  a  great  number  of  circulars  and 
libels  to  be  printed,  which  he  sent  to  the  generals  and  com- 
mandants who  had  been  left  behind  in  Egypt,  proposing  to  them 
to  return  to  France,  and  guaranteeing  their  passage,  if  they  chose 
to  do  so,  whilst  the  Commander-in-Chief  was  in  Syria.  These 
proposals  appeared  so  extravagant  that  it  became  the  common 
opinion  of  the  army  that  the  Commodore  was  not  in  his  right 
senses.  General  Dugua,  who  had  the  command  in  Lower  Egypt, 
prohibited  all  intercourse  with  him,  and  indignantly  rejected  his 
overtures. 

The  French  forces  in  Lower  Egypt  were  daily  increased  by 
the  arrival  of  men  from  the  hospitals.  The  fortifications  of  Alex- 
andria, Rosetta,  Rahmanich,  Damietta,  Salahieh,  Belbeis,  and  the 
different  points  of  the  Nile  which  it  had  been  judged  proper  to 
occupv  with  towers,  went  on  constantly  during  the  winter-months. 
General  Dugua  had  only  to  repress  the  incursions  of  the  Arabs 
and  some  partial  tumults;  the  mass  of  the  inhabitants,  influenced 

*  At  the  battle  of  Hanau,  General  Le  Tor.  who  fell  afterwards  at  the 
battle  of  Ligny,  and  to  whose  daughter  Buonaparte  left  a  legacy,  cut  his 
way  through  a  troop  of  Austrian  cavalry  to  extricate  Napoleon,  who  had 
been  surrounded  by  them.  lie  received  a  number  of  sabre  wounds,  and  his 
face  was  dreadfully  scarified.  Buonaparte  told  him,  laughing,  that  if  his 
wife  {a  handsome  English  woman)  admired  him  for  his  beauty  lie  ought  to 
be  afraid  of  meeting  her  again.  The  name  of  this  lady  was  Newton,  and 
the  Emperor  used  to  compliment  her  by  saying  that  she  did  as  much  honor 
to  her  country  by  her  grace  and  beauty  as  her  illustrious  namesake  had 
done  by  his  science.  Buonaparte  entering  a  wretched  hovel  in  one  of  his 
campaigns,  and  finding  some  potatoes  roasting  in  the  ashes,  greedily  seized 
on  one:  and  the  other  officers  (of  whom  General  Le  Tor  was  one)  drawing 
back,  he  said,  "  Why  don't  you  help  yourselves?  Do  you  think  I  am  to 
burn  my  fingers  for  you  ?"  This  cordial  familiarity  of  manners,  contrasted 
with  the  elevation  of  power,  would  naturally  account  for  the  extreme  de- 
votion of  his  troops. 

4* 


58  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

by  the  Scheiks  and  Ulemas,  remained  satisfied  and  quiet.  The 
first  event  which  interrupted  the  general  tranquillity  was  the 
revolt  of  Emir-Hadji,  or  the  Prince  of  the  Caravan  of  Mecca. 
The  General-in-Chief  had  authorized  Emir-Hadji  to  establish 
himself  in  Sharkieh  to  complete  the  organization  of  his  household. 
He  had  already  300  armed  men,  but  he  wanted  800  or  900  to 
form  a  sufficient  escort  for  the  caravan  of  the  pilgrims  on  their 
way  to  Mecca.  He  remained  faithful  to  Sultan  Kabir  (the  name 
always  given  to  Buonaparte  in  the  East)  until  the  battle  of  Mount 
Tabor  ;  but  then  Gezzar  having  succeeded  in  communicating 
with  him  by  the  coast,  and  having  informed  him  that  the  armies 
of  Damascus  and  the  Naplousains  were  surrounding  the  French 
at  the  camp  of  Acre,  and  that  the  latter,  weakened  by  the  siege, 
were  irremediably  lost,  lie  began  to  doubt  of  the  success  of  the 
French,  and  to  listen  to  Gezzar,  wishing  to  make  his  peace  bv 
rendering  him  some  service.  On  the  15th  of  April,  having  re- 
ceived more  false  intelligence  from  an  emissary  employed  by 
Gezzar,  he  announced  his  revolt  by  a  proclamation  published 
throughout  Sharkieh.  In  this  he  asserted  that  Sultan  Kabir  had 
been  killed  before  Acre,  and  the  whole  of  the  French  army  made 
prisoners.  The  greater  part  of  the  population  took  no  notice  of 
these  idle  rumors.  Five  or  six  villages  onlv  displayed  the  stan- 
dard of  revolt,  and  the  Emir's  forces  were  only  increased  by  400 
li  >rs  ■.  belonging  to  a  tribe  of  Arabs.  General  Lanusse  with  Ids 
moveable  column  left  the  Delta,  passed  the  Xile,  and  marched 
against  Emir-Hadji,  whom  he  succeeded  in  surrounding,  put  to 
death  those  who  resisted,  dispersed  the  Arabs,  and  burnt  one  of 
the  villages  as  an  example.  The  Emir-IIadji  himself  escaped 
with  lour  other  persons  through  the  Desert,  and  reached  Jeru- 
salem. 

Durimr  these  occurrences  in  Sharkieh,  others  ot  greater  im- 
ice  were  passing  in  Bahireh.  A  man  of  the  Desert  ot 
Derne,  possessed  of  a  Lire  at  reputation  for  sanctity  amongst  the 
Arabs  of  his  tribn,  took  it  in:  >  his  head  to  pretend  that  he  was  the 
nnirel  Flmody  whom  the  prophet  promises  in  the  Koran  to  send  to 
On  aid  of  the  elect  in  th"  m  >sl  critical  emergencies.  This  man 
had  all  the  qualities  calculated  to  excite  the  fanaticism  of  the  mul- 
titude.     He   succeeded   in   persuading  them  that  he  lived  without 


ST.  JEAN   D'ACRE  AND   ALEXANDRIA.  59 

food,  and  by  the  especial  grace  of  the  Prophet.  Every  clay  at  the 
hour  of  prayer,  and  before  all  the  faithful,  a  bowl  of  milk  was 
brought  to  him  in  which  he  clipped  his  fingers,  and  passed  them 
over  his  lips  ;  this  being,  as  he  said,  the  only  nourishment  he  tock. 
He  had  collected  a  body  of  120  followers,  inflamed  with  zeal, 
with  whom  he  repaired  to  the  Great  Oasis,  and  was  there  joined 
by  a  caravan  of  pilgrims,  consisting  of  400  Maugrabins  from 
Fez.  He  thus  found  himself  at  the  head  of  between  500  and 
GOO  men,  well-armed  and  supplied  with  camels;  and  marching 
on  Damanhour,  surprised  and  killed  sixty  men  belonging  to  the 
nautical  legion.  This  success  increased  the  number  of  his  parti- 
sans. He  visited  all  the  mosques  of  Damanhour  and  the  neigh- 
boring villages,  and  from  the  pulpit  declared  his  divine  mission, 
declaring  himself  incombustible  and  ball  proof,  and  giving  out 
that  his  followers  would  in  like  manner  have  nothing  to  fear  from 
the  muskets  and  cannon  of  the  French.  He  enlisted  3000  or  4000 
converts  in  Bahireh,  most  of  whom  he  armed  with  pikes  and 
shovels,  and  exercised  them  in  throwing  dust  against  the  enemy, 
declaring  that  this  blessed  dust  would  frustrate  all  the  efforts  of 
the  French  against  them.  Colonel  Lefebvre,  who  commanded  at 
Rahmanieh,  left  fifty  men  in  the  fort,  and  set  out  with  200  to  re- 
take Damanhour.  The  action  commenced,  and  when  the  fire  was 
briskest,  some  columns  of  fellahs  outflanked  tho  French  and 
passed  their  rear,  with  their  shovels  raising  clouds  of  dust. 
Colonel  Lefebvre  could  do  nothing,  though  a  number  of  the  enemy 
were  killed  in  the  skirmish.  The  wounded  and  the  relatives  of 
those  who  were  slain  loudly  reproached  their  leader,  who  had  told 
them  that  they  were  safe  from  the  balls  of  the  French.  He 
silenced  those  murmurs  by  quoting  the  Koran,  and  by  maintain- 
ing that  none  of  those  who  had  rushed  forward  full  of  confidence 
in  his  predictions  had  been  hurt ;  but  that  those  who  had  shrunk 
back  had  been  punished  by  the  Prophet,  because  they  had  not 
faith  in  their  hearts.  This  excuse  which  ought  to  have  opened 
their  eyes,  confirmed  their  belief.  He  reigned  absolute  in  Daman- 
hour, and  there  was  reason  to  apprehend  the  defection  would  ex- 
tend to  the  whole  of  Bahireh  and  the  neighboring  provinces. 
General  Lanusse  speedily  crossed  the  Delta,  reached  Damanhour, 
and  defeated  the  troops  of  the  pretended  angel  Elmndy.     Those 


60  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

who  were  unarmed  dispersed  and  fled  to  their  villages.  Lanusse 
fell  on  the  rest  of  these  fanatics  without  mercy,  and  shot  1500  of 
them,  amongst  whom  was  their  ringleader.  He  took  Damanhour, 
and  Bahireh  became  pacified. 

As  soon  as  it  was  known  that  the  French  army  had  repassed 
the  Desert,  and  was  returning  into  Egypt,  a  general  consternation 
prevailed  amongst  all  those  who  had  sided  with  the  French.  The 
Druses,  the  Mutualis,  the  Christians  of  Syria,  and  the  partisans  of 
Aver  had  to  make  their  peace  with  the  Pacha  by  large  pecuniarv 
sacrifices.  Gezzar  was  become  less  cruel  than  formerly  ;  most 
of  his  military  household  had  been  killed  at  St.  Jean  d;Acre,  and 
this  old  man  survived  all  those  whom  he  had  brought  up.  The 
plague  which  was  making  great  ravages  in  the  town,  also  in- 
creased his  troubles,  so  that  he  did  not  go  beyond  his  Pachaship. 
The  Pacha  of  Jerusalem  resumed  possession  of  Jaffa.  Ibrahim- 
Bey  with  400  Mamelukes  that  he  still  had  left,  took  up  a  posi- 
tion at  Gaza,  and  had  some  skirmishes  with  the  garrison  of  El- 
Arisch. 

Elphi-Bey  and  Osman-Bey,  with  300  Mamelukes,  1000  Arabs, 
and  1000  camels,  carrying  their  wives  and  their  riches,  went 
down  through  the  Desert  between  the  right  bank  of  the  Nile  and 
the  Red  Sea,  and  reached  the  Oasis  of  Sebaiar  in  the  beginning 
of  Julv.  They  waited  for  Ibrahim-Bey,  who  was  to  join  them  at 
Ga/.a  ;  and  thus  united,  they  wished  to  induce  all  Sharkich  to 
revolt,  to  penetrate  into  the  Delta,  ami  advance  on  Aboukir. 
Brigadier-General  Lagrange  left  Cairo  with  one  brigade  and  half 
the  droni  dary  regiment.  He  came  up  with  the  enemy  in  the 
night  of  tin'  9th  (if  July,  and  surrounded  the  camp  of  Osman- 
Bey  and  Elphi-Bey.  took  their  thousand  camels  and  their  families, 
and  killi  d  i  'sman-Bey,  five  or  six  Kiaschefs,  and  100  Mamelukes. 
The  rest  dispersed  in  the  Desert,  and  Elphi-Bey  returned  to  Xu- 
bia.  Ihrahim-Bev  being  informed  of  this  event  in  time,  did  n  it 
quit  Gaza.  Murad-Bey.  with  the  rest  of  the  Mamelukes,  amount- 
ing to  between  400  and  500  men.  arrived  in  the  Fayoum,  and 
thence  proceeded  bv  the  Desert  to  Natron,  where  he  expected  to 
be  joined  bv  2000  or  3000  Arabs  of  Bahireh  and  of  the  Desert 
of  Dome,  and  to  march  on  Aboukir,  the  place  appointed  for  the 
landing  of  the  nrreat  Turkish  arm  v.      General  Murat  set  out  from 


ST.  JEAN   D'ACRE   AND    ALEXANDRIA.  CI 

Cairo,  reached  lake  Natron,  attacked  Murad-Bey,  and  took  a 
Kiaschef  and  fifty  Mamelukes.  Murad-Bey  briskly  pursued,  and 
having,  moreover,  no  news  of  the  army  which  was  to  have  landed 
at  Aboukir,  but  was  delayed  by  the  winds,  turned  back  and 
sought  safety  in  the  Desert.  In  the  course  of  the  13th  he  reached 
the  Pyramids ;  it  is  said  that  he  ascended  the  highest  of  them, 
and  remained  there  part  of  the  day,  gazing  with  his  telescope  on 
the  houses  of  Cairo  and  his  fine  country-seat  at  Cizeh.  Of  all 
the  power  of  the  Mamelukes,  he  now  retained  only  a  few  hun- 
dred men,  disheartened,  fugitive,  and  miserable.  As  soon  as  the 
General-in-Chief  heard  of  his  being  there,  he  instantly  set  out 
for  the  Pyramids ;  but  Murad-Bey  plunged  into  the  Desert,  ma- 
king for  the  great  Oasis.  A  few  camels  and  some  men  were 
taken  from  him. 

On  the  14th  of  July,  the  General-in-Chief  heard  (at  Cairo) 
that  Sir  Sidney  Smith,  with  two  English  ships  of  the  line,  several 
frigates  and  Turkish  men-of-war,  and  a  hundred  and  twenty  sail 
of  transports,  had  anchored  in  Aboukir  roads  on  the  evening  of 
he  12th.  The  fort  of  Aboukir  was  armed,  victualled,  and  in 
rood  condition,  with  a  garrison  of  400  men  and  a  commandant 
that  might  be  depended  on.  Marmont  undertook  to  defend  this 
fort  till  the  army  had  time  to  come  up.  But  this  General  had 
committed  a  great  error  in  not  following  the  directions  of  the 
General-in-Chief,  who  had  ordered  him  to  raze  the  village  of 
Aboukir,  and  extend  the  fortifications  ;  instead  of  which  he  had 
taken  upon  himself  to  preserve  the  village,  as  convenient  for  can- 
tonments, and  had  a  redoubt  constructed  on  the  isthmus,  which 
he  thought  a  sufficient  security.  On  the  14th,  the  English  and 
Turkish  gun-boats  entered  Lake  Maadieh,  and  cannonaded  the 
redoubt ;  and  when  it  was  thought  sufficiently  battered,  the  Turks, 
sword  in  hand,  mounted  to  the  assault,  carried  the  work,  and 
took  or  killed  the  300  French  stationed  there.  The  100  men  that 
remained  in  the  fort,  intimidated  by  the  immense  force  that  sur- 
rounded them  surrendered. 

In  the  mean  time,  as  soon  as  Napoleon  was  informed  of  the 
landing  of  the  Turks,  he  proceeded  to  Gizeh  and  dispatched  or- 
ders to  all  parts  of  Egypt.  On  the  15th  he  slept  at  Wardan,  on 
the  17th  at  Alham,  on  the   18th  at  Shabur,  and   on   the    19th   at 


62  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

Rahmanieh,  thus  performing  a  journey  of  forty  leagues  in  four 
days.  The  divisions  of  Murat,  Lannes,  and  Bon  marched  from 
Cairo ;  Kleber  came  from  Damietta  ;  General  Reynier,  who  was 
in  Sharkieh,  had  orders  to  leave  GOO  men  to  garrison  the  forts. 
and  to  march  on  Rahmanieh.  General  Desaix  likewise  received 
orders  to  evacuate  Upper  Egypt,_  to  leave  the  guarding  of  the 
country  to  the  inhabitants,  and  to  come  to  Cairo  with  all  possible 
speed ;  so  that  if  it  should  be  necessary,  the  whole  army,  amount- 
ing  to  25,000  men,  might  be  in  motion  to  join  before  Aboukir, 
where  there  was  every  reason  to  expect  not  only  a  Turkish,  but 
an  English  army,  and  in  the  uncertainty  of  the  event,  the  Gene- 
ral-in-Chief took  the  worst  for  granted.  It  was  his  object  to  at- 
tack and  defeat  the  army  which  was  landing  at  Aboukir,  before 
that  of  Syria  (supposing  such  an  army  to  have  been  collected  and 
to  be  on  its  way)  could  reach  Cairo.  On  arriving  at  Rahmanieh 
on  the  20th,  Napoleon  learnt  the  news  of  the  landing  of  the  troops 
under  Mustapha-Pacha,  and  of  the  capture  of  the  redoubt;  but 
that  they  had  not  stirred  since,  either  because  they  were  waiting 
for  the  junction  of  the  English,  or  for  that  of  Murad-Bey.  The 
fortifications,  in  constructing  which  the  enemy  occupied  them- 
selves on  the  Isthmus  of  Aboukir,  seemed  to  indicate  that  they 
wished  to  make  this  point  the  centre  of  operations,  and  to  march 
thence  either  on  Alexandria  or  Rosetta,  according  to  circum- 
stances. The  General-in-Chief  in  consequence  sent  General 
Murat  to  Birketh,  a  village  at  the  head  of  Lake  Maadieh,  from 
whence  lie'  could  fall  on  the  right  flank  of  the  Turks  if  they  should 
make  for  Rosetta,  or  on  their  left  flank  if  they  should  march  on 
Alexandria. 

A\'hile  the  columns  were  effecting  a  junction  at  Rahmanieh, 
Napoleon  visited  Alexandria,  and  found  every  thing  in  the  forti- 
fications in  excellent  order,  for  which  lie  gave  due  praise  io  the 
talents  and  activity  of  Colonel  Cretin.  As  there  was  a  proba- 
bility of  the  English  coming  up,  it  was  important  to  attack  the 
Turks  separately  ;  but  there  was  a  difficulty  in  this,  as  it  would 
take  several  daws  for  the  whole  army  to  arrive  from  such  distant 
points,  and  as  the  troops  actually  assembled  and  ready  to  engage 
did  not  amount  to  above  5000  or  6000.  Napoleon  set  out  from 
Alexandria  on  the  24th,  and  proceeded  to  Puits,  half-way  acrosv 


ST.   JEAN   D'ACRE   AND   ALEXANDRIA.  63 

the  isthmus,  where  he  encamped  and  was  joined  by  all  the  troops 
that  were  at  Birketh.  The  Turks,  who  were  without  cavalry, 
could  not  watch  his  movements,  and  some  hopes  were  entertained 
of  surprising  the  enemy's  camp  ;  but  this  design  was  frustrated 
by  an  accident.  A  company  of  sappers  escorting  a  convoy  of 
tools,  having  left  Alexandria  late  on  the  24th,  passed  the  fires  of 
the  French  army,  and  fell  in  with  the  outposts  of  the  Turks  at 
ten  o'clock  in  the  evening.  As  soon  as  they  perceived  their  mis- 
take they  fled,  but  ten  were  taken,  from  whom  the  Turks  ascer- 
tained that  the  General,  with  the  army  was  opposite  to  them,  and 
the  next  morning  they  were  prepared  for  the  assault.  General 
Lannes  with  1800  men  made  his  dispositions  to  attack  the  ene- 
my's left.  Destaing  with  a  like  number  of  troops  prepared  to 
attack  the  right  ;  Murat,  with  all  his  cavalry  and  a  light  battery, 
was  in  reserve.  The  skirmishers  of  Lannes  and  Destaing  soon 
engaged  with  those  of  the  enemy,  and  the  Turks  maintained  the 
battle  with  success,  till  Murat,  having  penetrated  through  their 
centre,  suddenly  cut  off  the  communication  between  their  first 
and  second  lines.  The  Turkish  troops  then  lost  all  confidence, 
and  rushed  tumultuously  towards  their  rear.  This  corps  consisted 
of  between  9000  and  10,000  men.  The  Turkish  infantry  are 
brave,  but  preserve  no  order,  and  their  musquets  are  without 
bayonets  :  they  are  moreover  deeply  impressed  with  an  opinion 
of  their  inferiority  to  cavalry  on  level  ground.  Encountered  in 
the  midst  of  the  plain  by  the  French  cavalry,  they  could  not  re- 
join their  second  line  ;  their  right  was  driven  towards  the  sea, 
and  their  left  towards  Lake  Maadieh.  An  unprecedented  spec- 
tacle now  presented  itself.  The  columns  of  Lannes  and  Destaing, 
which  had  advanced  to  the  heights  lately  quitted  by  their  adver- 
saries, descended  thence  at  the  charge;  and  these  10,000  men, 
fro  escape  the  pursuit  of  the  infantry  and  cavalry,  threw  them- 
selves into  the  water,  and  whilst  the  artillery  poured  grape-shot 
upon  them,  were  almost  all  drowned..  It  was  said  that  not  more 
than  a  score  succeeded  in  swimming  to  the  ships.  This  extraordi- 
nary advantage,  obtained  with  so  little  loss,  gave  the  General-in- 
Chief  hopes  of  forcing  the  second  line.  Colonel  Cretin  was  sent 
forward  to  reconnoitre.  The  left  was  found  to  be  the  weakest 
part.     Lannes  had  orders  to  draw  up  his  troops  in  columns,  and 


84  LIFE   OF   XAPOLEOX. 


under  the  protection  of  the  artillery  to  proceed  along  the  lake, 
turn  the  entrenchments,  and  throw  himself  into  the  village.  Mu- 
rat  was  to  follow  with  his  cavalry  as  before,  prepared  to  execute 
the  same  movement;  Colonel  Cretin,  who  knew  every  step  of  the 
ground,  was  to  direct  their  march,  and  Destaing  was  instructed  to 
make  false  movements,  to  occupy  the  attention  of  the  enemy's  right. 
All  these  dispositions  succeeded.  Lannes  had  forced  the  en- 
trenchments and  made  a  lodgment  in  the  village  ;  hut  Mustapha- 
Pacha,  who  was  in  the  redoubt  behind  it,  at  this  moment  made  a 
sortie  with  4000  or  5000  men,  and  thereby  helped  to  separate  the 
French  right  from  their  left,  at  the  same  time  placing  himself  in 
the  rear  of  their  right.  This  movement  would  have  stopped  Lan- 
nes short  ;  but  the  General-in-Cbief,  who  was  in  the  centre, 
marched  with  the  60th,  cheeked  Mustapha's  attack,  made  him 
give  ground,  and  thereby  restored  the  confidence  of  General  Lan- 
nes's  troops,  who  continued  their  movement,  and  the  cavalry  ad- 
vancing  got  in  the  rear  of  the  redoubt.  The  enemy,  finding  them- 
selves cut  off,  fell  into  the  utmost  disorder.  General  Destaing 
charged  on  the  right,  and  those  who  tried  to  regain  the  fort  falling 
in  with  the  cavalry,  not  one  Turk  would  have  escaped,  had  it  not 
been  for  the  village,  which  a  considerable  number  had  time  to 
reach  and  to  entrench  themselves  in  it.  A  great  multitude  were 
driven  into  the  sea.  Mustapha  with  all  his  staff,  and  a  body  of 
from  l'JOO  to  loOO  men,  were  surrounded  and  made  prisoners. 
It  was  four  in  the  afternoon  when  the  battle  was  over.  Mustapha- 
Pacha  did  not  surrender  till  after  making  a  valiant  resistance  ; 
he  had  been  wounded  in  the  hand.  The  French  cavalry  had  the 
chief  share  in  the  fortune  of  the  day.  Murat  was  wounded  in  the 
head  bv  a  tromblon  shot ;  Duvivier  was  killed  by  a  thrust  from 
a  kaniriar.  Cretin  was  shot  dead  bv  a  musket-ball,  while  con- 
ducting the  cavalrv,  and  Guibert,  aide-de-camp  to  the  General- 
in-Chief,  was  struck  bv  a  ball  in  the  breast  and  died  shortly  after 
the  battle.  The  French  loss  was  300  men.  Sir  Sidney  Smith, 
who  had  chosen  the  position  occupied  by  the  Turkish  army, 
narrowly  escaped  being  taken  prisoner,  and  with  some  difficulty 
got  "ii  board  his  sloop.  The  60th  had  behaved  ill  in  an  assault 
at  St.  Jean  d'Acre,  and  the  General-in-Chief  had  it  inserted  in  the 
order  of  the  day  that   they  should   march  across  the  Desert  with 


ST.   JEAN  D'ACRE  AND   ALEXANDRIA.  6fc 


their  arms  reversed,  and  escorting  the  sick  :  by  their  spirited  con- 
duct at  the  battle  of  Aboukir  they  regained  their  former  reputation. 
Buonaparte  left  Egypt  for  France,  which  he  thought  required 
his  presence  more,  on  the  morning  of  the  6th  of  Fructidor  (23d 
of  August)  1799,  and  landed  at  Frejus  on  the  9th  of  October. 
He  gave  the  command  of  the  army,  amounting  to  28,000  men,  to 
Kleber,  who  at  first  doubting  of  Buonaparte's  safe  arrival,  and 
anxious  to  quit  Egypt,  sent  over  the  most  disheartening  accounts 
and  gave  ear  to  every  idle  rumor.  He  had  formerly  served  un- 
der the  Austrians  against  the  Turks,  and  had  conceived  the  most 
exaggerated  ideas  of  their  prowess  and  ability  in  war.  Turkish 
armies  and  English  fleets  hovered  for  a  long  time  in  the  horizon 
of  his  imagination,  till  Colonel  Lautour-Maubourg,  who  left  France 
at  the  end  of  January  1800,  arrived  at  Cairo,  on  the  4th  of  May, 
with  the  news  of  Buonaparte's  landing  in  France  and  the  events 
of  the  18th  of  Brumaire,  ten  days  previous  to  the  term  fixed  for 
the  surrender  of  that  capital  to  the  Grand  Vizier.  Kleber  took 
heart  at  this,  and  he  had  only  to  march  against  the  enemy.  That 
rabble  which  called  itself  the  Grand  Vizier's  army,  was  chased 
across  the  Desert  without  making  any  resistance.  The  French 
had  not  above  a  hundred  men  killed  or  wounded,  while  the  enemy 
lost  an  immense  number  of  troops,  and  their  tents,  baggage,  and 
artillery.  An  entire  change  now  took  place  in  Kleber's  conduct ; 
he  set  seriously  to  work  to  improve  the  state  of  the  army  and  of 
the  country;  but  on  the  14th  of  June,  1800,  ho  fell  by  the  hand 
of  a  fanatic.  Menou  succeeded  to  the  command,  who  was  totally 
unlit  for  it.  An  English  army  of  18,000  men,  under  Sir  Ralph 
Abercrombie,  landed  at  Aboukir  the  year  following.  The  event 
of  that  battle  is  well  known:  Sir  Ralph  Abercrombie  was  killed, 
but  the  French  army  were  obliged  to  lay  down  their  arms  and 
evacuate  Egvpt.  which  they  did  a  short  time  after,  thus  losing 
the  whole  object  of  the  expedition.  Admiral  Gantheaume  had 
sailed  from  Brest  the  25th  of  January,  with  5000  men  to  rein- 
force the  army  of  Alexandria,  and  might  have  arrived  in  time, 
had  he  followed  his  orders  ;  but  he  put  back  with  every  rumor 
of  an  English  vessel,  and  shifted  his  course  oftencr  than  the  wind, 
as  if  determined  to  evade  his  instructions  and  defeat  the  object  of 

his  vovao-e.     The  French  character  seems  never  to   have   been 

6* 


66  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


fixerl.  or  directed  steadily  and  effectually  to  a  given  purpose,  ex 
cept  under  the  strong  pressure  and  immediate  control  of  Buona- 
parte's iron  will.* 

The  scheme  in  which  he  embarked  on  this  occasion  was  less 
imperfect,  and  finally  failed.  But  an  incident  which  happened 
long  after,  may  serve  to  show  the  impression  he  made  on  all  about 
him,  and  on  fierce,  barbaric  minds.  Twenty  years  after  the  date 
of  the  events  here  related,  Antommarchi  going  to  visit  Napoleon, 
then  a  captive  and  dying  at  St.  Helena,  arrived  off  Cape  Palm. 
They  kept  near  to  the  shore,  and  saw  a  number  of  canoes  leave 
the  isle  and  make  towards  them.  They  watched  the  progress  of 
these  skiffs  with  an  anxious  eye.  They  were  light,  swift,  narrow, 
and  low,  managed  by  men  squatted  down  in  them,  who  struck  the 
sea  with  their  hands  and  glided  over  its  surface  ;  a  wave,  a  breath 
made  them  upset ;  but  nimble  as  the  fishes,  they  instantly  turned 
their  boats  round  again,  and  pursued  their  course.  The  vessel 
had  taken  in  sail  ;  they  were  soon  up  with  it ;  they  were  strong, 
active,  well-made.  They  brought  provisions,  which  were  re- 
ceived with  every  mark  of  thankfulness.  "  Where  are  you 
going  ?"  asked  one  of  them.  "  To  St.  Helena,"  was  the  answer. 
This  name  struck  him,  he  remained  motionless.  "  To  St.  He- 
lena ?"  he  replied,  in  a  tone  of  dejection — "  Is  it  true  that  he  is 
there  ?"  "  Who  ?"  demanded  the  captain.  "  The  African  cast 
a  look  of  disdain  at  him,"  says  Antommarchi,  "  came  to  us  and 
repealed  the  question.  We  replied  that  he  was  there.  lie  looked 
at  us,  shook  his  head,  and  at  length  let  the  word  impossible  escape 
him.  We  gazed  at  one  another  ;  we  could  not  tell  who  this 
savage  could  be,  who  spoke  English,  French,  and  who  had  so 
hhrh  an  idea  of  Napoleon.  'You  know  him  then?" — 'Long 
ago.'  '  You  have  seen  him  V — '  In  all  his  glory.'  '  And  often  V 
— 'In  Cairo,  the  well-defended  city,  in  the  Desert,  in  the  field  of 
battle.'  You  do  not  believe  in  his  misfortunes  ?'• — '  His  arm  is 
strong,  his  tongue  sweet  as  honey,  nothing  can  resist  him.' — ■ 
'  He  has  for  a  long  time  withstood    the  efforts  of  all  Europe.' — 

*  The  expedition  into  Egypt  was  originally  suggested  to  the  French 
Government  under  M,  Calonne.  and  afterwards  to  the  Directory  by  a  man 
of  the  name  of  Magallon,  who  had  been  for  several  years  French  Consul 
General  in  the  East. 


ST.  JEAN   D'ACRE   AND   ALEXANDRIA  «7 


*  Neither  Europe  nor  the  world  can  overcome  such  a  man.  The 
Mamelukes,  the  Pachas  were  eclipsed  before  him;  he  is  the  God 
of  Battles.  '  Where  then  did  you  know  him  V — '  I  have  told 
you,  in  Egypt.'  'You  have  served  with  him?' — 'In  the  21st;  I 
was  at  Bir-am-bar,  at  Samanhout,  at  Cosseir,  at  Cophtos,  wherever 
this  valiant  brigade  was  to  be  found.  What  is  become  of  General 
Belliard  ?'  '  He  still  lives:  he  has  rendered  his  name  illustrious 
by  twenty  feats  of  arms.  You  know  him  too'?' — 'He  com- 
manded the  21st;  he  scoured  the  Desert  like  an  Arab;  no  ob- 
stacle stopped  him.'  '  Do  you  remember  General  Desaix  V — - 
'  None  of  those  who  went  on  the  expedition  to  High  Egypt  will 
ever  forget  him.  He  was  brave,  ardent,  generous,  he  plunged 
into  ruins  or  battles  alike  ;  I  served  him  a  long  time.'  '  As  a 
soldier  ?' — '  No,  I  was  not  that  at  first ;  I  was  a  slave,  belonging  to 
one  of  the  sons  of  the  King  of  Darfour.  I  was  brought  into 
Egypt,  ill-treated,  sold.  I  fell  into  the  hands  of  an  aide-de-camp 
of  the  Just.*  I  was  habited  like  a  European,  and  charged  with 
some  domestic  offices,  of  which  I  acquitted  myself  well  ;  the 
Sultan  was  satisfied  with  my  zeal,  and  attached  me  to  his  person. 
Soldier,  grenadier,  I  would  have  shed  my  blood  for  him  :  but  Na- 
poleon cannot  be  at  St.  Helena!'  '  His  misfortunes  are  but  too 
certain.  Lassitude,  disaffection,  plots' — '  All  vanished  at  his 
sight;  a  single  word  repaid  us  for  all  our  fatigues;  our  wishes 
were  satisfied,  we  feared  nothing  from  the  moment  that  we  saw 
him.'  '  Have  you  fought  under  him  !' — '  I  had  been  wounded  at 
Cophtos,  and  was  sent  back  into  Lower  Egypt;  I  was  at  Cairo 
when  Mustapha  appeared  on  the  coast.  The  army  had  to  march. 
I  followed  its  movement,  and  was  present  at  Aboukir.  What 
precision,  what  an  eye,  what  brilliant  charges  !  It  is  impossible 
that  Napoleon  has  been  conquered,  that  he  is  at  St.  Helena!' 
We  did  not  insist  ;  the  African  was  obstinate,  his  illusion  was 
dear  to  him,  and  we  did  not  wish  to  dispel  it.  We  gave  him  some 
tobacco,  powder,  some  clothes,  all  the  trifles,  in  short,  which  were 
prized  by  Ins  tribe.  He  went  back  well  satisfied,  speaking  al- 
ways  of  the  21st,  of  his  chiefs,  his  General,  and  of  the  impossi- 
bility that  so  great  a  man  as  Napoleon  should  be  at  St.  Helena."-) 

*  The  name  by  which  Desaix  was  known  in  Egypt. 

(  Last  Moments  of  Napoleon,  by  F.  Antommarchi.  vol.  i.  p.  51. 


*8  LIFE   OF   XAPOLEON. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 


THE    EIGHTEENTH    OF    BRUMAIRE. 


Ox  the  9th  of  October,  1799,  (16th  of  Vendemiaire,  year  VIH.) 
the  frigates  La  Muiron  and  La  Carrere  and  the  xebecks  La 
Revanche  and  La  Fortune,  with  which  Buonaparte  had  sailed 
from  Rosetta,  cast  anchor  at  break  of  day  in  the  gulf  of  Frejus. 

No  sooner  were  the  French  frigates  descried  than  it  was  con- 
jectured  they  came  from  Egypt.  The  people  ran  in  crowds  to 
.he  shore,  eager  for  news  from  the  army.  It  was  soon  under- 
stood that  Napoleon  was  on  board,  and  such  was  the  enthusiasm 
among  the  people,  that  even  the  wounded  soldiers  got  out  of  the 
hospitals  in  spite  of  the  guards,  and  went  to  the  shore.  The  spec- 
tators wept  for  joy.  In  a  moment  the  sea  was  covered  with  boats. 
The  officers  belonging  to  the  fortifications  and  the  customs,  the 
crews  of  the  ships  that  were  anchored  in  the  road,  in  short,  every 
body  thronged  round  the  frigates.  General  Percymont,  who 
commanded  on  the  coast,  was  the  first  to  go  on  board.  Thus 
they  were  allowed  to  enter  without  waiting  for  the  officers  of 
quarantine,  for  the  communication  with  the  ships  had  been  gene- 
ral. Italy  had  just  been  lost:  war  was  about  to  be  recommenced 
on  the  Var,  from  whence  Napoleon  had  driven  it  three  years 
before  ;  and  Frejus  dreaded  an  invasion  as  soon  as  hostilities 
should  begin.  The  necessity  of  having  a  leader  at  the  head  oi' 
affairs  was  too  urgent,  and  the  public  mind  was  too  much  agitated 
by  the  sudden  appearance  of  Napoleon  at  this  juncture  for  ordi- 
nary considerations  to  have  any  weight.  The  quarantine  officers 
declared  that  there  was  no  occasion  for  subjecting  these  vessels 
to  it,  and  grounded  their  report  on  the  circumstance  that  they  had 
touched  at  Ajaccio.  This  argument  rather  proved,  that  Corsica 
ought  to  have  been  put  under  the  same  regulations.  It  is  true, 
that  during  fifty  days  which   had   elapsed   since  the  vessels  left 


THE   EIGHTEENTH   OF   BRUMAIRE.  69 

Egypt,  there  had  been  no  appearance  of  sickness,  and  indeed  the 
plague  had  ceased  three  days  before  their  departure.  At  six 
o'clock  that  evening  Napoleon,  accompanied  by  Berthier,  set  off 
for  Paris.  The  fatigue  of  the  passage  and  the  effect  of  the 
transition  from  a  dry  to  a  moist  climate  compelled  Napoleon  to 
stop  some  hours  at  Aix.  The  inhabitants  of  the  city  and  of  the 
neighboring  villages  came  in  crowds  to  offer  their  congratulations 
at  seeing  him  again.  Those  who  lived  too  far  from  the  road  to 
present  themselves  there  in  time,  rang  the  bells,  and  hoisted  flags 
upon  the  steeples,  which  at  night  blazed  with  illuminations.  It 
was  not  like  the  return  of  a  citizen  to  his  country,  or  of  a  general 
at  the  head  of  a  victorious  army,  but  seemed  to  imply  something 
more  than  this.  The  enthusiasm  of  Avignon,  Montelimart,  Va- 
lence, and  Vienne  was  only  surpassed  by  that  of  Lyons.  That 
city,  in  which  Napoleon  rested  for  twelve  hours,  was  in  a  state 
of  general  delirium.  The  Lyonnese  had  always  testified  a  strong 
attachment  to  him,  perhaps  from  feeling  a  peculiar  interest  (on 
account  of  their  situation)  in  all  that  related  to  Italy.  They  had 
also  just  received  the  accounts  of  the  battle  of  Aboukir,  which 
formed  a  striking  contrast  to  the  defeat  of  the  French  armies  of 
Germany  and  Italy.  "  We  are  numerous,  we  are  brave,"  the 
people  seemed  every  where  to  say,  "  and  yet  we  are  conquered. 
We  want  a  leader  to  direct  us — we  now  behold  him,  and  our 
glory  will  once  more  shine  forth."  In  the  mean  time,  the  news 
of  Napoleon's  return  had  reached  Paris.  It  was  announced  at 
the  theatres,  and  caused  an  universal  sensation,  of  which  even 
the  Directory  partook.  Some  of  the  Sociele  du  Manege  trem- 
bled on  the  occasion,  but  they  dissembled  their  real  feelings  so  as 
to  seem  to  share  the  common  sentiment.  Baudin,  the  deputy 
from  the  Ardennes,  who  had  been  much  grieved  at  the  disastrous 
turn  the  affairs  of  the  Republic  had  taken,  died  of  joy  when  he 
neard  of  Napoleon's  return. 

Napoleon  had  already  quitted  Lyons,  before  his  landing  was 
announced  in  Paris.  With  a  precaution  hardly  necessary  in 
these  circumstances,  lie  took  a  different  road  from  the  one  he  had 
mentioned  to  his  couriers  ;  so  that  his  wife,  his  family,  and  par- 
ticular friends  went  in  a  wrong  direction  to  meet  him,  and  some 
days  elapsed  in  consequence  before  he  saw  them.      Having  thus 


70  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

arrived  in  Paris  quite  unexpectedly,  he  had  alighted  at  his  own 
house  in  the  Rue  Chantereine  before  any  one  knew  of  his  being 
in  the  capital.  Two  hours  afterwards,  he  presented  himself  to 
the  Directory  ;  and  being  recognized  by  the  soldiers  on  guard, 
was  welcomed  with  shouts  of  gladness.  Happy  still  was  this 
period  when  every  spark  of  enthusiasm  was  not  dead,  and  there 
was  at  least  one  man  in  the  world  who  could  excite  the  least  emo- 
tion in  the  public  breast!  The  intoxicating  draughts  of  liberty 
and  of  glory  that  mankind  have  swallowed  in  the  last  forty  years 
seem  to  have  exhausted  the  vital  principle  of  the  human  mind, 
and  have  brought  on  premature  old  age  and  decay  !  Buonaparte 
had  every  reason  to  congratulate  himself  on  the  reception  he  met 
with  on  all  sides.  The  nature  of  past  events  sufficiently  in- 
structed him  as  to  the  situation  of  France  ;  and  the  information 
he  had  procured  on  his  journey  had  made  him  acquainted  with 
all  that  was  going  on.  His  resolution  was  taken.  What  he  had 
been  unwilling  to  attempt  on  his  return  from  Italy,  he  was  now 
determined  to  do  at  once.  He  had  the  greatest  contempt  for  the 
government  of  the  Directory  and  for  the  leaders  in  the  two  Coun- 
cils. Resolved  to  possess  himself  of  authority  and  to  restore 
France  to  her  late  glory  by  giving  a  powerful  impulse  to  public 
affairs,  he  had  left  Egypt  to  execute  this  project  ;  and  all  that  he 
had  seen  in  passing  through  France  had  confirmed  his  sentiments 
and  strengthened  his  design. 

It  is  necessary  to  take  a  retrospective  glance  at  what  had  hap- 
pened in  his  absence.  The  elections  of  Floreal,  year  VI.  (May 
1793),  which  immediately  followed  his  departure,  were  not  favoi- 
able  to  the  Directory,  though  they  took  place  in  a  totally  opposite 
spirit  to  those  of  the  year  V.  After  the  lQth  of  Fructidor,  the  de- 
feat of  the  counter-revolutionists  had  thrown  all  the  influence  inro 
the  hands  of  the  extreme  republican  party,  who  had  re-established 
the  clubs  under  the  title  of  Constitutional  Circles.  This  party 
ruled  in  the  electoral  assemblies,  which  had  to  nominate  437  new 
deputies  to  the  legislative  bod  v.  As  the  elections  drew  near,  the 
Directory  inveighed  loudly  against  those  whom  it  termed  anarch- 
ists ;  but  not  being  able  to  influence  the  choice  of  the  members, 
it  determined  to  annul  the  greater  part  of  them  in  virtue  of  a  law, 
bv  which,  in  the   preceding  vear,  the    Councils  had  entrusted  it 


THE  EIGHTEENTH   OF   BRUMAIRS.  71 

with  tl  e  power  of  revising  the  proceedings  of  the  electoral  assem- 
blies. For  this  purpose  a  commission  of  five  members  was  ap- 
pointed out  of  the  legislative  body,  by  means  of  which  the  party 
of  the  Directory  struck  from  the  list  all  the  violent  Republicans, 
as  nine  months  before  they  had  excluded  the  Royalists.  Soon 
after,  Merlin  of  Douay  and  Treilhard,  who  succeeded  Carnot  and 
Barthelemy,  went  out  of  office  by  rotation  ;  Rewbell  remained  the 
chief  manager  in  all  affairs  which  required  boldness  and  prompti- 
tude ;  Reveillere  was  too  much  taken  up  with  the  sect  of  the 
Theophilanthropists  for  a  statesman  ;  Barras  led  the  same  dissolute 
life  as  ever,  and  his  house  was  the  resort  of  gamesters,  women  of 
intrigue,  and  adventurers  of  every  description.  To  the  difficulties 
arising  out  of  want  of  union  in  the  government  or  from  the  con- 
flict of  parties  were  soon  added  those  of  a  war  with  all  Europe. 

While  the  plenipotentiaries  of  the  Republic  were  still  negotia- 
ting the  conditions  of  peace  at  Rastadt,  the  second  Coalition  took 
the  field.  The  treaty  of  Campo-Formio  had  only  been  considered 
by  Austria  as  a  suspension  of  arms  to  gain  time.  England  found 
no  difficulty  in  engaging  her  to  take  part  in  the  new  confederation, 
to  which,  with  the  exception  of  Prussia  and  Spain,  all  the  other 
European  powers  lent  their  aid.  The  subsidies  of  Great  Britain 
and  a  crusade  in  the  South  prevailed  with  Russia ;  the  Porte  and 
the  Barbary  States  acceded  to  it  in  consequence  of  the  invasion  of 
Egvpt ;  the  Empire  to  recover  the  loft  hank  of  the  Rhine,  and  the 
petty  princes  of  Italy  in  the  hope  of  overturning  the  new  Repub- 
lics which  had  been  established  there.  The  Congress  at  Rastadt 
was  gravely  occupied  in  discussing  the  articles  of  the  treaty  rela- 
tive to  the  cession  of  the  left  bank  of  the  Rhine,  the  navigation  of 
this  river,  and  the  demolition  of  certain  fortresses  on  the  right 
bank,  when  the  Russians  advanced  into  Germany  and  the  Aus- 
trian army  was  immediately  put  in  motion.  The  French  pleni- 
potentiaries, taken  unawares,  received  orders  to  depart  in  twenty- 
four  hours  ;  they  obeyed  on  the  instant,  and  set  forward  on  their 
journey  after  having  obtained  safe. conducts  from  the  enemy's 
generals.  At  a  short  distance  from  Rastadt  they  were  way-laid 
by  some  Austrian  hussars,  who  having  ascertained  their  names 
and  titles,  assassinated  them  on  the  spot ;  Bonnier  and  Roberjot 
were  slain,  Jean  de  Bry  was  left  for  dead.     Such  was  the  insult 


72  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

and  outrage  deliberately  and  openly  offered  to  the  rights  of  nations 
in  the  persons  of  the  French  envoys,  because  no  terms  were  to  be 
kept  with  those  who  had  set  up  the  rights  of  nature  in  opposition 
to  the  sacred  right  of  kings  !  Such  was  the  meek  patience,  the 
long-suffering,  the  mild  perseverance,  with  which  the  Allied  Pow- 
ers showed  their  desire  of  peace  by  massacring  the  ambassadors 
that  had  been  appointed  to  conclude  it  with  Lhem  !  Such  was 
their  "  unbought  grace  of  life,"  their  "  cheap  defence  of  nations  !'"' 
Yet  these  are  the  people,  they  who  authorized,  who  repeated,  and 
who  applauded  outrages  like  this,  who  were  the  professed  sup- 
porters of  religion,  morality,  and  social  order,  who  if  a  hair  of 
their  heads  was  but  touched,  cried  out  for  help  as  if  the  dissolu- 
tion of  the  world  was  at  hand,  and  who  laid  it  down  that  every 
violation  of  the  nicest  punctilio  with  regard  to  them  was  a  crime  of 
the  deepest  dye,  in  proportion  as  they  were  entitled  and  had  carte 
blanche  (according  to  every  notion  of  legitimacy)  to  practise  all 
sorts  of  atrocity  with  impunity  and  with  impudence.  Yet  these  are 
the  men  who  complained  of  the  unprovoked  aggressions  and  insa- 
tiable ambition  of  France,  and  of  the  impossibility  of  making  peace 
with  her.  Yet  it  is  to  this  government  who  thus  broke  off  a  hollow 
truce,  and  seizing  the  sword,  threw  away  the  scabbard,  that 
Madame  de  Stael  afterwards  addressed  the  pathetic  appeal — Allc- 
magne  !  tu  es  une  nation,  et  tu  plcurcs  !  On  the  first  intelligence 
of  this  breach  of  faith  and  of  every  principle  of  civilized  society, 
the  legislative  body  declared  war  against  Austria,  and  in  terms 
of  becoming  indignation  at  the  outrage  which  had  provoked  it. 

Hostilities  commenced  in  Italy  and  on  the  Rhine.  The  mili- 
tary conscription  which  had  been  sanctioned  by  a  law  placed 
200,000  recruits  at  the  disposal  of  the  Republic.  The  powers 
who  were  the  most  impatient  and  formed  the  advance  guard  of 
the  Coalition  had  already  entered  the  lists.  The  King  of  Naples 
marched  against  Rome,  and  the  King  of  Sardinia  had  levied 
troops  and  menaced  tin;  Ligurian  Republic.  As  they  had  not  a 
force  sufficient  to  stand  the  shock  of  the  French  armies,  they 
were  easily  overthrown  and  defeated.  General  Championnet  en- 
tered Naples,  after  a  sanguinary  victory.  The  Lazzaroni  defen- 
ded the  interior  of  the  city  during  the  space  of  three  days,  bu; 
♦hey  were  at  length  compelled  to  submit,  and  the  Partkenopean 


THE  EIGHTEENTH   OF   BRUMAIRE.  73 

Republic  was  proclaimed.  Joubert  occupied  Turin,  and  all  Italy- 
was  in  the  hands  of  the  French,  when  the  campaign  opened  upon 
a  wider  scale. 

The  Coalition  had  the  advantage  of  the  Republic  in  numerical 
forces,  and  in  the  forwardness  of  its  preparations :  it  commenced 
the  attack  by  the  three  grand  openings  of  Italy,  Switzerland,  and 
Holland.  A  numerous  Austrian  army  entered  the  Mantuan  ter- 
ritory, and  twice  beat  Sherer  on  the  Adige  ;  where  it  was  soon 
after  joined  by  the  eccentric  and  hitherto  victorious  Suwarrow. 
Moreau  took  the  place  of  Sherer,  and  was  beaten  like  him.  He 
retreated  by  way  of  Genoa,  in  order  to  maintain  the  barrier  of 
the  Apennines  and  to  effect  his  junction  with  the  army  of  Naples, 
commanded  by  Macdonald,  which  had  been  almost  crushed  to 
pieces  at  Trebbia.  The  Confederates  then  directed  their  princi- 
pal force  towards  Switzerland.  Some  Russian  troops  joined  the 
Archduke  Charles,  who  had  defeated  Jourdan  on  the  Upper  Rhine, 
and  who  prepared  to  pass  the  Swiss  frontier.  At  the  same  time 
ine  Duke  of  York  landed  in  Holland  with  40,000  English  and 
Russians.  The  little  Republics  that  formed  a  circle  round  France 
were  invaded  ;  and  after  a  few  more  victories,  the  Allies  might 
hope  to  penetrate  to  the  very  centre  of  the  capital. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  these  military  disasters,  and  of  the  dis- 
contents that  followed,  that  the  new  elections  for  the  year  VII. 
(May  1799)  took  place.  They  turned  out  favorably  for  the  Re- 
publican party,  but  fatally  for  the  members  of  the  Directory,  who 
were  not  strong  enough  to  make  a  stand  against  the  public  calam- 
ities and  their  personal  enemies.  Sieves  replaced  Rewbell,  who 
went  out  by  rote,  and  was  the  only  one  among  them  who  had 
much  energy  or  spirit  to  head  a  party.  Treilhard  was  also  de- 
prived of  his  situation  on  account  of  an  informality  in  his  election 
to  office,  the  year  required  by  the  Constitution  not  having  expired 
since  lie  had  belonged  to  the  Legislative  Body  ;  his  place  was 
supplied  by  Gohier,  Ex-Minister  of  Justice.  Merlin  of  Douay 
and  Reveillere-Lepaux  being  thus  left  in  a  minority  and  violently 
attacked  by  the  most  powerful  speakers  in  the  Councils,  resigned 
with  some  reluctance,  and  were  succeeded  by  General  Moulins 
and  Roger-Ducos.  Sieyes,  thus  invested  with  power  which  he 
had  hitherto  declined,  began  to  cast  about  how  he  should  effect 

VOL.  II.  5  7 


74  LIFE   OF   XAPOLEON. 

the  ruin  of  the  old  Republican  Constitution  of  the  year  III.  and 
set  up  one  of  those  in  its  stead,  the  plan  of  which  he  always  car 
ried  about  with  him  in  his  pocket.  He  had  either  feared  or  had 
a  dislike  to  Rewbell,  and  as  long  as  he  was  in  office,  refused  to 
act  with  him.  In  the  Directory  he  at  present  reckoned  on  .he 
support  of  Ducos ;  in  the  Legislature,  on  the  majority  of  the 
Council  of  Ancients  ;  among  the  people  on  those  who  wishing 
to  keep  what  they  have,  only  require  stability  and  order:  he  was 
at  a  loss  for  a  military  leader,  and  for  this  purpose  had  fixed  on 
Joubert  whom  he  had  placed  at  the  head  of  the  Army  of  the  Alps, 
that  by  means  of  victory  and  the  liberation  of  Italy,  he  might 
gain  a  great  political  ascendant.  The  new  Directors,  Gohier  and 
Moulins,  still  wished  to  maintain  the  Constitution  of  the  year  III.; 
they  had  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred  on  their  side,  and  were 
strengthened  by  the  Club  of  the  Manege,  the  remnant  of  that  of 
Salms,  of  the  Pantheon,  and  of  the  Jacobins.  Barras  remained 
neuter  amidst  these  factions,  or  rather  had  a  new  game  of  ins  own 
to  play,  as  he  had  lately  connected  himself  with  the  royalist  party. 
This  amidst  so  many  agitations  had  not  been  idle,  and  taking  ad- 
vantage of  the  successes  of  the  Coalition,  of  the  embarrassments 
occasioned  by  the  forced  loan,  and  of  the  unpopularity  of  the  law 
of  hostages,  which  required  the  families  of  emigrants  to  give  per- 
sonal security  to  government,  had  begun  to  raise  disturbances 
in  the  South  and  West,  and  to  re-appear  in  armed  bands.  Of  all 
the  factions  that  disturbed  France  for  so  long  a  time,  this  is  the 
only  one  that  remained  true  to  itself:  that  waited  patiently, 
watched  its  opportunity,  and  seized  upon  it  whenever  it  occurred. 
Power  never  slumbers,  and  fear  and  self-interest  wait  upon  it  as 
its  shad  iw. 

Fortunately  for  the  Republic,  the  war  took  a  turn  about  this 
time  on  the  two  principal  frontiers  of  the  Upper  and  Lower 
Rhine.  The  Allies,  having  gained  possession  of  Italv,  wanted 
to  penetrate  into  France  bv  Switzerland  and  Holland;  but 
Massena  and  B rune  put  a  stop  to  their  hitherto  triumphant  march. 
Massena  advanced  against  Korsakof  and  Sow  arrow.  During 
twelve  days  of  well-contrived  manoeuvres  and  successive  victo- 
ries, parsing  to  and  fro  from  Constance  to  Zurich,  he  repelled  the 
efforts  of  the  Russians,  forced  them  to  retreat,  and   broke  up  the 


THE   EIGHTEENTH   OF   BRUMAIRE.  75 

Coalition.  Bruno  likewise  defeated  the  Duke  of  York  in  Hoi 
land,  obliged  him  to  re-embark  on  board  his  vessels,  and  give  up 
the  attempt  at  invasion.  The  Army  of  Italy  alone  had  been 
less  successful ;  and  its  General,  Joubert,  had  been  killed  at  the 
battle  of  Novi,  as  he  was  charging  the  Austro-Russian  army  at 
the  head  of  his  troops.  But  this  frontier  was  of  less  consequence 
on  account  of  its  remoteness,  and  was  also  ably  defended  by 
Championnet.  The  change  in  the  face  of  the  war  made,  how- 
ever, no  change  in  the  state  of  parties.  Things  went  on  as  be- 
fore. Sieves  pursued  his  projects  against  the  Republicans. 
Lucien  Buonaparte  gave  a  flaming  description  in  the  Council  of 
Five  Hundred  of  the  reign  of  terror,  which  he  said  was  about  to 
be  renewed.  Bernadotte  was  deprived  of  his  command,  and 
Fouche,  who  had  lately  been  appointed  to  the  head  of  the  police, 
shut  up  the  Social/'  du  Manage.  The  death  of  Joubert  had  once 
more  embarrassed  Sieves  in  the  choice  of  a  military  leader. 
Hoche  had  been  dead  more  than  a  year  ;  Moreau  was  suspected 
on  account  of  his  conduct  with  regard  to  Pichegru  ;  Massena  was 
no  politician  ;  Bernadotte  and  Jourdan  were  of  the  opposite  party. 
Things  were  in  this  state  when  Buonaparte  returned,  nineteen 
days  after  the  victory  of  Bergen,  obtained  by  Brune  over  the 
Duke  of  York,  and  fourteen  after  that  of  Zurich,  obtained  by 
Massena  over  Suwarrow.  lie  was  just  the  man  that  Sieves 
wanted  ;  but  as  Buonaparte  did  not  stand  in  the  same  need  of 
him,  the  fine  web  of  policy  he  had  woven  was  taken  out  of  his 
hands  the  moment  it  was  realised,  and  the  great  political  machine 
he  had  been  at  so  much  pains  and  had  taken  so  much  time  to 
construct,  turned  and  crushed  the  inventor  as  soon  as  it  was  put 
in  motion. 

Of  the  members  that  composed  the  Directory  when  Buona- 
parte quitted  France  a  year  and  a  half  be  fire,  Barras  alone  re- 
mained. The  other  members  were  Ducos,  Gohier,  Moulins,  men 
of  moderate  talents  but  of  good  intentions,  and  Sieves.  The  lat- 
ter had  been  long  known  to  Napoleon.  He  was  a  native  of  Frejus 
in  Provence,  and  his  reputation  had  commenced  with  the  Revolu- 
tion. He  had  been  called  to  the  Constituent  Assembly  by  the 
electors  of  the  Third  Estate,  at  Paris,  after  having  heen  repulsed 
by  the  Assembly  of  the  Clergy  at  Chartres.      He  was  the  author 


76  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

of  the  pamphlet  entitled,  "  Qu' est-ce-que  le  Tiers-Etal  ?"  which 
made  so  much  noise.  He  was  not  a  man  of  business;  all  his 
studies  having  been  devoted  to  metaphysics,  he  had  the  common 
fault  of  metaphysicians,  that  of  too  often  despising  positive  no- 
tions ;  but  he  was,  notwithstanding,  capable  of  giving  good  and 
useful  advice  on  matters  of  importance,  or  at  any  urgent  crisis. 
To  him  France  is  indebted  for  its  division  into  Departments,  which 
destroyed  a  number  of  local  prejudices;  and  though  he  was 
never  distinguished  as  an  orator,  he  greatly  contributed  to  the 
success  of  the  Revolution  by  his  advice  in  the  Committees.  lie 
was  nominated  to  the  Directory  at  its  first  establishment  ;  but  he 
declined  the  distinction  at  that  time  from  his  dislike  to  Rewbell  ; 
and  Reveillere-Lepaux  was  appointed  in  his  stead.  lie  was 
afterwards  sent  ambassador  to  Berlin,  where  he  imbibed  a  great 
mistrust  of  the  politics  of  Prussia.  He  had  taken  a  seat  in  the 
Directory  not  long  befure  the  18th  of  Brumaire  ;  but  he  had  al- 
ready made  great  exertions  to  check  the  progress  of  the  Sociele  du 
Manege,  which  he  conceived  to  be  ready  to  seize  the  helm  of  the 
State.  At  the  period  of  the  13th  of  Vendemiaire,  a  trilling  cir- 
cumstance had  given  Napoleon  a  favorable  opinion  of  him.  At 
the  most  alarming  moment  of  that  day,  when  the  Committee  of  the 
Forty  seemed  quite  at  a  loss,  Sieves  came  to  Napoleon  and  drew 
him  into  the  recess  of  a  window,  while  the  Committee  was  delib- 
erating upon  the  answer  to  be  given  to  the  summons  of  the  Sec- 
tions. "You  hear  them,  General,"  said  he;  "  they  talk  while 
they  should  be  acting.  Bodies  of  men  are  wholly  unfit  to  direct 
armies,  for  they  know  not  the  value  of  time  or  occasion.  You 
have  nothing  to  do  here;  go,  General,  consult  your  genius  and 
the  situation  of  the  country  :  the  hopes  of  the  Republic  rest  on 
you  alone/' 

Napoleon  accepter!  an  invitation  to  a  private  dinner  with  each 
of' tin-  Directors  ;  and  a  grand  entertainment  was  given  to  him  by 
the  Directory.  The  Legislative  Bodv  desired  to  follow  the  ex- 
ample ;  but  an  objection  arose  on  account  of  Moreau,  whom  they 
did  not  wish  to  invite  or  to  show  him  any  mark  of  respect,  his  be- 
havior having  excited  a  very  general  disapprobation.  To  avoid 
this  difficulty,  recourse  was  had  to  a  subscription,  and  the  enter- 
tainment was  given   in   the  church  of  St.   Sulpice,  where  covers 


THE   EIGHTEENTH   OF   BRUMAIRE.  77 

were  laid  for  seven  hundred  persons.  Napoleon  remained  at  table 
but  a  short  time.  He  also  dined  with  the  Minister  of  Justice  (Cam. 
baceres),  where  he  requested  that  the  principal  lawyers  of  the 
Republic  might  be  invited.  He  appeared  very  cheerful  at  this 
dinner,  conversed  at  large  on  the  civil  and  criminal  codes,  to  the 
great  astonishment  of  Tronchet,  Treilhard,  Merlin,  and  Target, 
and  expressed  a  wish  that  the  persons  and  property  of  the  Repub- 
lic should  be  subjected  to  a  simple  code,  adapted  to  the  enlight- 
ened state  of  the  age.  This  wish  he  afterwards  carried  into  effect 
in  the  Code  Napoleon.  He  entered  but  little  into  public  enter- 
tainments of  any  kind,  and  pursued  nearly  the  same  line  of  con- 
duct that  he  had  followed  on  his  first  return  from  Italv.  He  went 
frequently  to  the  Institute,  but  seldom  to  the  theatres,  and  then 
always  went  into  the  private  boxes.  Meanwhile,  the  arrival  of 
Napoleon  in  France  made  a  strung  impression  on  the  rest  of 
Europe.  The  English  were  particularly  enraged  at  Sir  Sidney 
Smith  and  Nelson  for  letting  him  escape.  A  number  of  carica- 
tures on  the  subject  were  exhibited  in  the  streets  of  London,  in 
one  of  which  Nelson  was  represented  amusing  himself  with  dress- 
ing Lady  Hamilton,  while  the  frigate  La  Muiron  was  passing  be- 
tween his  legs. 

Talleyrand  did  not  expect  to  be  well  received  by  Buonaparte, 
as  lie  had  not  seconded  the  expedition  to  Egypt  by  opening  nego- 
ciations  with  the  Porte  or  going  himself  in  person,  as  had  been 
stipulated.  But  he  had  been  dismissed  from  the  situation  he  held 
through  the  influence  of  the  Clubs.  His  address  was  also  insin- 
uating, his  talents  important  ;  a  reconciliation  accordingly  took 
place  between  the  General  and  the  Minister,  for  each  wanted  the 
other.  Louche,  in  whom  Buonaparte  had  no  faith,  was  not, 
though  Minister  of  Police,  admitted  into  the  secret  of  the  18th  of 
Bruniaire.  Real,  a  zealous  revolutionist,  but  a  man  full  of 
energy  and  character,  possessed  most  of  his  confidence.  All 
classes  were  impatient  to  see  what  Napoleon  would  do,  and  all 
parties  courted  him.  The  Societe  du  Manege  even  oiFered  to 
acknowledge  him  as  chief,  and  to  entrust  the  fortunes  of  the  Re- 
public to  him,  if  he  would  second  their  principles  in  other  respects. 
Sieves,  who  had  the  vote  of  Roger  Ducos  in  the  Directory,  who 
swayed  the  majority  of  the  Ancients  and   influenced   a    minority 


78  LIFE   OF    NAPOLEON. 

in  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred,  proposed  to  place  him  at  the 
head  of  the  Government,  changing  the  Constitution  of  the  yeai 
III.  which  he  deemed  defective,  and  substituting  one  of  his  own, 
which  he  had  by  him  in  manuscript.  A  numerous  party  in  the 
Council  of  Five  Hundred,  with  Lucien  Buonaparte  at  their 
head,  were  also  strongly  in  his  favor.  Barras,  Moulins,  and 
Gohier  hinted  the  eligibility  of  his  resuming  his  old  command  of 
the  Army  of  Italy.  .Moulins  and  Gohier  were  sincere  in  the 
plan  they  recommended,  and  trusted  that  all  would  go  well  from 
the  moment  that  Napoleon  should  once  more  lead  the  armies  to 
victory.  Barras  knew  better;  he  was  aware  that  every  thing 
went  wrong,  that  the  Republic  was  sinking  ;  and  it  is  broadly  as- 
serted that  a  plan  to  restore  the  Bourbons  through  his  means  had 
miscarried  by  the  merest  accident,  only  a  few  weeks  before. 
Even  Louis  XV11I.  turned  his  eyes  on  Buonaparte  as  a  second 
General  .Monk,  and  wrote  him  a  confidential  letter,  exhorting  him 
to  put  his  intentions  in  his  favor  into  effect,  not  long  after  the 
overthrow  of*  the  Directory. 

In  these  circumstances  Xapolcon  had  the  choice  of  several 
measures:  1st,  To  strengthen  the  existing  Constitution  and  sup- 
port the  Directory,  by  becoming  himself  one  of  them.  But  the 
Directory  and  the  existing  Constitution  had  fallen  into  contempt, 
partly  from  external  reverses,  partly  from  wounds  inflicted  on 
itself;  and  besides,  he  conceived  that  a  magistracy  in  several  hands 
wanted  the  energy  necessary  in  the  circumstances  of  the  times, 
to  say  nothing  of  his  own  personal  views.  "2nd,  He  might  change 
the  actual  government,  and  seize  on  power  by  the  aid  of  the  So- 
ciety du  Mandge  and  the  violent  Republican  party.  In  that  way 
his  triumph  would  be  secure  and  easy.  But  be  reasoned  that 
these  men  attached  themselves  to  no  leader,  and  would  brook  no 
control,  that  they  would  by  incessant  jealousy  and  cabal  throw 
all  into  chaos  and  confusion  again,  and  that  either  the  same  scenes 
of  violence  and  extravagance  would  be  acted  over  again,  of  which 
there  bad  already  been  a  satiety,  or  that  he  should  be  obliged  to 
get  rid  of.  and  put  down  by  the  strong  hand  of  power,  the  very 
persons  who  had  raised  him  to  it.  and  who  had  expected  to  share 
it  with  him.  There  was  a  treachery  and  want  of  decorum  in 
this,  to  which  he  felt  a  repugnance  ;    or  rather  he  had  no  in- 


THE   EIGHTEENTH   OF   BRUMAIRE.  7» 

clination  to  enter  into  any  compromise  or  compact  with  this  party, 
but  to  wash  his  hands  of  them  from  the  first  as  a  preliminary  and 
indispensable  step.  3d,  He  might  secure  the  support  of  Barras 
and  his  friends,  but  they  were  men  of  profligate  character,  and 
openly  accused  of  embezzling  the  public  treasure.  Without  strict 
integrity,  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  restore  the  finances  or 
give  energy  to  the  measures  of  government.  4th,  Sieyes  had  a 
considerable  party  at  his  disposal,  men  of  character  and  friends 
of  liberty  on  principle,  but  possessed  of  little  energy,  intimidated 
by  the  Manage,  and  averse  to  popular  violence.  Such  persons 
might  be  made  useful  after  the  victory,  and  Sieyes  could  be  con- 
sidered in  no  sense  as  a  dangerous  rival.  But  to  side  with  this 
party  was  to  make  enemies  of  Barras  and  the  Jacobins,  who  ab- 
horred Sieyes. 

On  the  8th  of  Brumaire  (October  30th)  Napoleon  dined  with 
Barras  and  a  i'ow  other  persons.  "  The  Republic  is  falling,"  said 
the  Director  ;  "  things  can  go  no  farther  ;  a  change  must  take 
place,  and  Ilcdouville  must  be  named  President  of  the  Republic. 
As  to  you,  General,  you  intend  to  join  the  army  ;  and  for  my 
part,  ill  as  1  am,  unpopular,  and  worn  out,  I  am  fit  only  to  return 
to  private  life."  Napoleon  looked  stedfastly  at  him,  without  re- 
plying a  word.  General  Iledouville  was  a  man  of  the  most  or- 
dinarv  character.  This  conversation  decided  Napoleon  ;  and 
immediately  after,  he  called  on  Sieyes  to  give  him  to  understand 
that  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  act  with  him,  and  it  was  settled 
that  the  blow  should  be  struck  between  the  loth  and  20th  of  Bru- 
maire. On  returning  to  his  own  house,  he  found  Talleyrand, 
Fouche,  Rcederer,  and  Real  there.  He  related  to  them,  without 
any  comment  or  without  any  expression  of  countenance  which 
could  betray  his  own  opinion,  what  Barras  had  just  said  to  him. 
[leal  and  Fouche,  who  both  had  a  regard  for  the  Director,  went 
to  him  to  tax  him  with  his  ill-timed  dissimulation.  The  following 
morning  at  eight  o'clock  Barras  came  to  Napoleon,  who  had  not 
risen  ;  insisted  on  seeing  him,  said  how  imperfectly  he  had  ex- 
plained himself  the  preceding  evening,  declared  that  he  alone 
could  save  the  Republic,  and  entreated  him,  if  he  had  any  project 
in  agitation,  to  rely  entirely  on  his  cordial  concurrence.  But 
Napoleon,  who  had  already  taken   his  measures,   replied  that  he 


80  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

had  nothing  in  view,  that  he  was  indisposed  from  fatigue  and  the 
change  of  climate,  and  put  an  end  to  the  interview.  Gohier  and 
Moulins  came  daily  to  Napoleon  to  consult  him  on  military  and 
civil  business  :  with  respect  to  the  first,  he  offered  his  opinions 
frankly,  but  he  declined  interfering  with  the  latter. 

The  officers  of  the  garrison  of  Paris,  headed  by  Moreau,  the 
adjutants  of  the  National  Guard,  most  of  whom  had  been  ap- 
pointed by  him  when  he  was  General  of  the  Army  of  the  Inte- 
rior, wished  to  be  presented  to  Napoleon  :  the  8th  and  9th  regi- 
ments of  dragoons,  who  were  old  regiments  of  the  Army  of  Italy, 
the  21st  light-horse,  who  had  taken  a  distinguished  part  on  the 
13th  of  Vendemiaire  against  the  Sections,  wished  him  to  appoint 
a  day  to  review  them  :  but  the  better  to  conceal  his  designs,  he 
either  declined  all  these  overtures  or  gave  evasive  answers  to 
them.  The  citizens  of  Paris  also  complained  of  the  General's 
keeping  so  close  ;  they  went  to  the  theatres  and  reviews  in  the 
hope  of  seeing  him,  but  he  was  not  there.  Nobody  could  account 
for  this  shyness.  "  It  is  now,"  they  said,  '•'  a  fortnight  since  his 
arrival"  (an  age  to  the  levity  and  short-sightedness  of  these  peo- 
ple) ••  and  as  yet  he  has  done  nothing.  Does  he  mean  to  behave 
as  he  did  on  his  return  from  Italy,  and  leave  the  Republic  to  be 
still  torn  in  pieces  by  contending  factions  ?"  But  the  decisive 
hour  approached. 

On  the  loth  Sieves  and  Buonaparte  had  an  interview,  at  which 
they  resolved  on  the  measures  for  the  18th.  It  was  agreed  that 
the  Council  of  Ancients,  availing  itself  of  tin.'  l()2d  article  of  the 
Constitution,  should  decree  tin-  removal  of  the  Legislative  Body 
to  St.  Cloud,  and  should  appoint  Napoleon  Commander-in-Chief 
of  the  guard  belonging  to  it.  of  the  troops  of  the  military  division 
ot  Paris,  and  of  the  National  Guard.  This  decree  was  to  be 
passer]  on  the  lvth.  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning  ;  at  eisht, 
Napoleon  was  to  Lr  >  to  the  Thuilleries,  where  the  troops  were 
to  lie  assembled,  and  there  ;  >  assume  the  command  of  the  capi- 
tal. On  the  17th  he  sent  word  to  the  officers  of  the  garrison  that 
he  would  receive  them  the  iv\\  daw  at  six  in  the  morning.  As 
tnat  hour  might  appear  unseasonable,  ]K,  foju-ned  being  about  to 
set  olf  on  a  journey  :  he  e/av.-  the  same  invitation  to  the  forty  ad- 
jutants of  the    National  Guard  :    and    he    informed  the  three  cav- 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  OF   BRUMAIRE  8l 

airy  regiments  that  he  would  review  them  in  the  Champs  Elystes, 
on  the  same  day  (the  18th)  at  seven  in  the  morning.  He  also  in 
timated  to  the  Generals  who  had  returned  from  Egypt  with  him, 
and  to  all  those  on  whose  sentiments  he  could  rely,  that  he  should 
be  glad  to  see  them  at  that  hour.  Each  thought  that  the  invita- 
tion was  addressed  to  himself  alone,  and  supposed  that  Napoleon 
hud  some  particular  orders  to  give  him  ;  as  it  was  known  that 
Dubois-Crance,  the  Minister-at-War,  had  laid  the  reports  of  the 
state  of  the  army  before  him,  and  had  adopted  his  advice  on  all 
that  was  to  be  done,  as  well  on  the  frontiers  of  the  Rhine  as 
in  Italy. 

Moreau,  who  had  been  at  the  dinner  given  by  the  Legislative 
Body,  where  Napoleon  had  for  the  first  time  become  acquainted 
with  him,  having  learnt  from  public  report  that  a  change  was  in 
agitation,  assured  the  latter  that  he  placed  himself  at  his  disposal, 
that  he  had  no  wish  to  be  admitted  into  any  secrets,  and  that  he 
required  but  an  hour's  notice.  Macdonald,  who  happened  to  be 
at  Paris,  had  made  the  same  tender  of  his  services.  At  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  Napoleon  let  them  know  that  he  wished 
to  see  them  at  his  house  at  seven  o'clock,  and  on  horseback.  He 
did  not  apply  to  Augereau  or  Bernadotte,  whom  lie  knew  to  be 
hostile  to  his  designs  ;  but  Joseph  Buonaparte  brought  the  latter, 
who  however  slipped  away  from  the  cavalcade  as  it  was  on  its 
way  to  the  Council  of  Ancients,  and  went  to  join  the  discontented 
members  of  the  Manege.  General  Lefebvre,  who  commanded 
the  military  division,  was  known  to  be  wholly  devoted  to  the  Di- 
rectory ;  Napoleon  dispatched  an  aide-de-camp  to  him  at  mid- 
night,  desiring  he  would  come  to  him  at  six  o'clock. 

Every  thing  took  place  as  it  had  been  planned.  About  seven 
in  the  morning  the  Council  of  Ancients  assembled  under  the  prcsi- 
dency  of  Lemercier.  Cornudet,  Lebrun,  and  Fargues  depicted 
in  lively  colors  the  distresses  of  the  country  and  the  dangers  to 
which  it  was  exposed  from  internal  and  external  enemies.  Reg- 
nier,  deputy  from  La  Meurthe,  then  proposed  the  removal  of  the 
sittings  of  the  Legislative  Body  to  St.  Cloud,  and  that  Buonaparto 
should  be  invested  with  the  command  of  the  troops;  "  under  tti« 
shelter  of  whose  protecting  arm,"  added  the  orator,  "  the  Coun 
cils  may  proceed  to  discuss  the  changes  which  the  public  interna: 

o* 


82  LIFE    OF   XAPOLEON. 


renders  necessary."  As  soon  as  it  was  known  that  this  step  had 
been  taken  in  concert  with  Buonaparte,  the  decree  passed,  but 
not  without  strong  opposition.  The  decree  was  passed  at  eight 
o'clock  :  and  at  half-past  eight  the  state-messenger  who  was  the 
bearer  of  it  arrived  at  Napoleon's  house.*  The  avenues  were 
filled  with  the  officers  of  the  garrison,  the  adjutants  of  the  Xa. 
tional  Guard,  a  number  of  generals,  and  the  three  regiments  of 
cavalry.  Xapoleon  had  the  folding-doors  thrown  open  ;  and 
his  house  being  too  small  to  contain  such  a  concourse  of 
persons,  he  came  forward  on  the  steps  in  front  of  it,  received 
the  congratulations  of  the  officers,  harangued  them,  and  re- 
peated that  he  relied  upon  them  for  the  salvation  of  France.  At 
the  same  time  he  gave  them  to  understand  that  the  Council  of 
Ancients,  under  the  authority  of  the  Constitution,  had  just  con- 
ferred on  him  the  command  of  all  the  troops;  that  important 
measures  were  in  agitation,  designed  to  rescue  the  country  from 
its  embarrassed  situation  ;  that  he  trusted  to  their  support  and 
good-will,  and  that  he  was  at  that  moment  ready  to  mount  horse 
to  proceed  to  the  Thuilleries.  This  address  was  received  with 
tiie  greatest  enthusiasm  :  the  officers  drew  their  swords,  and 
vowed  their  service  and  fidelity.  Xap  Icon  then  turned  towards 
Lefehvre,  demanding  whether  he  chose  to  remain  with  him  or  re- 
turn to  the  Directory  ;  but  the  latter,  overcome  bv  this  appeal  did 
not  hesitate  a  moment.  Xapoleon  then  mounted  on  horseback,  and 
placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  Generals  and  officers  and  of  fif- 
teen hundred  horse,  who  Iiad  halted  for  him  on  the  Boulevard  at  the 
corner  of' the  Hue  Mnnl-Blanc.  He  directed  the  Adjutants  of  the  Xa- 
tional  Guard  to  return  to  their  quarters,  and  beat  the  drums;  to  make' 
known  the  decree  which  they  had  just  heard,  an  1  to  announce  that 
.  rs  were  to  It  ■  nb'-ycd  bul  such  as  sh  mid  emanate  fn  mi  him. 
Xapoleon  presented  himself  at  the  bar  of  the  Council  of  Au- 
c'-'iits.  attended  by  this  imposing  escort.  lie  addressed  the 
A-s-mblv.  ■•  You  are  the  wisdom  of  the  nation,"  he  said  ;  "at 
this  crisis  it  belongs  to  you  to  point  out  the   measures  which  may 

•  This  house  was  well  chusvn.  It  is  up  a  long  narrow  avenue  (in  the 
I!'.'-  ( 'hantereinel  with  walls  mi  b<>th  .- : ■  1  •  •  - .  where  Buonaparte,  if  need  had 
I'i'.'ii.  e  iiiM  have  hi  Id  '.at  fur  a  lung  time  with  a  few  hundred  men  agaiusf 
all  Paris 


THE  EIGHTEENTH   OF   BRUMAIRE.  83 

save  the  country.  I  come,  surrounded  by  all  the  Generals,  to 
promise  you  their  support.  I  appoint  General  Lefebvre  my  lieu- 
tenant. I  will  faithfully  fulfil  the  task  with  which  you  have  en- 
trusted me.  Let  us  not  look  into  the  past  for  examples  of  what  is  now 
going  on.  Nothing  in  history  resembles  the  end  of  the  eighteenth 
century  :  nothing  in  the  eighteenth  century  resembles  the  present 
moment."  The  troops  were  mustered  at  the  Thuilleries:  Napo- 
leon reviewed  them  amidst  the  unanimous  acclamations  of  both 
citizens  and  soldiers.  He  gave  the  command  of  the  troops  which 
were  to  guard  the  Legislative  Body  to  General  Lannes  ;  and  to 
Murat  the  command  of  those  sent  forward  to  St.  Cloud.  He 
deputed  Moreau  to  guard  the  Luxembourg  with  500  soldiers  of 
the  86th  regiment,  whom  he  placed  under  his  orders ;  but  at  the 
moment  of  setting  off  the  men  refused  to  march  from  their  want  of 
confidence  in  Moreau,  and  Buonaparte  was  obliged  to  harangue 
them  before  they  would  obey.  The  news  that  Napoleon  was  at  the 
Thuilleries,  and  that  he  was  invested  with  the  supreme  command, 
flew  like  lightning  through  the  capital.  The  people  flocked  in 
crowds  to  see  him  or  to  offer  him  their  services.  The  decree  of 
the  Council  of  Ancients  and  an  address  from  Buonaparte  to  the 
citizens  and  to  the  soldiers  were  everywhere  posted  up  on  the 
walls  of  Paris.  He  called  on  the  former  to  rally  round  the  Legis- 
lative Body  as  the  only  means  of  ensuring  union  and  confidence, 
and  he  assured  the  latter  that  "  liberty,  victory,  and  peace  would 
soon  reinstate  the  Republic,  which  had  been  ill-governed  for  two 
years,  in  the  rank  which  she  held  in  Europe,  and  from  which  im- 
becility and  treachery  were  alone  capable  of  degrading  her." 
The  greatest  agitation  and  uncertainty  prevailed  in  Paris.  The 
friends  of  liberty  expressed  their  apprehension  of  the  ultimate  de- 
signs of  Buonaparte,  in  whom  they  saw  a  future  Caesar  or  Crom- 
well;  but  were  answered  by  his  partisans  in  the  words  of  the 
General  himself,  who  designated  the  parts  they  had  played  as 
•'  bad  parts,  parts  worn  oat,  unworthy  of  a  man  of  sense,  even  if 
they  icere  not  so  of  a  man  of  honor.  It  would  be  nothing  less  than 
a  sacrilegious  ambition  that  would  attempt  any  such  enterprise  as 
that  of  overturning  a  representative  government  in  the  age  of  light 
and  liberty.  He  must  be  a  madman  who  should,  in  mere  wanton 
ness  of  heart.  lose  the  wager  of  the  Repmblic  against  royalty,  aftf 


84  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

having  maintained  it  with  some  glory  and  at  some  risk"  These 
words  might  be  supposed  to  convict  the  person  to  whom  they  are 
attributed  of  the  rankest  hypocrisy,  if  the  heart  were  not  deceit- 
ful above  all  things,  or  if  it  were  not  true  that  men  often  dare  not 
avow  their  intentions  to  themselves  till  they  are  ripe  for  execution, 
or  scarcely  know  what  they  are  till  they  have  been  crowned  with 
success.  The  reproaches  he  addressed  to  Bellot,  Barras's  Secre- 
tary, were  more  in  character,  more  consonant  with  his  past  ser- 
vices and  future  designs  :  "  What  have  you  done  with  that  France 
which  I  left  you  so  splendid  ?  I  left  you  peace,  and  I  find  you  at 
war:  I  left  you  victory,  and  I  find  defeats:  I  left  you  the  spoils 
of  Italy,  and  I  find  everywhere  oppression  and  misery.  What 
have  you  done  with  a  hundred  thousand  Frenchmen  whom  I 
knew,  all  of  them  my  companions  in  glory  ?  They  are  dead. 
This  state  of  things  cannot  last;  in  three  years  it  would  lead  us 
to  destruction.  According  to  some,  we  shall  all  be  shortly  ene- 
mies to  the  Republic — we  who  have  preserved  it  by  our  efforts 
and  our  courage.  We  have  no  occasion  for  better  patriots  than 
the  brave  men  who  have  shed  their  blood  in  its  defence  !"  Napo- 
leon now  sent  an  aide-de-camp  to  the  Guards  of  the  Directory,  for 
the  purpose  of  communicating  the  decree  to  them,  and  enjoining 
them  to  receive  no  orders  but  from  him.  The  Guards  sounded  to 
horse  ;  the  commanding  officer  consulted  the  soldiers,  who  an- 
swered with  shouts  of  joy.  At  this  very  moment  an  order  from 
the  Directory  arrived,  contrary  to  that  of  Napoleon  ;  but  the  sol- 
diers, obeying  no  orders  but  his,  marched  to  join  him.  Sieves 
and  Roger  Ducos  had  been  ever  since  the  morning  at  the  Thuil- 
leries.  It  is  said  that  Barras,  on  seeing  Sieves  mount  his  horse, 
was  much  amused  at  the  awkwardness  of  the  unpractised  eques- 
trian, little  suspecting  the  event  of  this  day's  proceedings.  Being 
shortly  after  apprised  of  the  decree,  Barras  consulted  with  Gohier 
and  Moulins,  the  latter  of  whom  proposed  to  send  a  battalion  to 
surround  Buonaparte's  house;  but  finding  no  means  of  executing 
their  threats,  as  their  own  Guards  had  deserted  them,  both  Gohier 
and  Moulins  went  to  the  Thuilleries  and  gave  in  their  resignation, 
as  Sieves  arid  Roger  Duces  had  already  done.  Talleyrand 
hastened  to  inform  Barras  of  what  had  just  taken  place,  and 
having  done  the  same,  he  was  removed    under  a  guard  of  honof 


THE   EIGHTEENTH   OF   BRUMAIRE.  83 

to  his  estate  at  Gros-Bois.  The  Directory  was  thus  dissolved, 
and  Napoleon  remained  master  of  the  field. 

Cambacercs,  Fouche,  and  the  other  ministers  repaired  to  the 
Thuilleries,  prepared  to  act  under  the  new  authority.  Fouche 
had  given  directions  for  closing  the  barriers  and  preventing  the 
departure  of  couriers  and  stage-coaches.  Buonaparte  disap- 
proved of  this.  "  Wherefore,"  he  asked,  "  all  these  precautions? 
We  go  with  the  opinion  of  the  nation,  and  by  its  strength  alone. 
Let  no  citizen  be  interrupted,  and  let  every  publicity  be  given  to 
what  is  done  !"  The  majority  of  the  Five  Hundred,  the  minority 
of  the  Ancients,  and  the  leaders  of  the  Manege  spent  the  night  of 
the  18th  in  consultation.  At  a  meeting  at  the  Thuilleries,  Sieyes 
proposed  that  the  forty  principal  leaders  of  the  opposition  should 
be  arrested.  This  recommendation  savored  too  much  of  caution 
or  of  fear  to  be  relished  by  Napoleon,  though  he  afterwards  had 
reason  to  think  Sieyes  was  right.  It  was  at  this  meeting  that  the 
appointment  of  three  Provisional  Consuls  was  agreed  upon,  as  well 
as  the  adjournment  of  the  Councils  for  three  months.  Their  seve- 
ral parts  were  also  assigned  to  the  leaders  in  the  Two  Councils  for 
the  next  day. 

On  the  19th  the  Deputies  met  at  St.  Cloud.  Sieyes  and  Du- 
cos  accompanied  Buonaparte  to  this  new  field  of  battle,  to  assist 
him  with  their  encouragement  or  advice  ;  and  Sieyes  remained 
during  the  whole  day  in  his  carriage  at  the  gate  of  St.  Cloud, 
prepared  to  act  as  circumstances  should  require.  The  Orangery 
was  allotted  to  the  council  of  Five  Hundred,  and  the  Gallery  of 
Mars  to  that  of  the  Ancients  ;  the  apartments  since  known  by 
the  name  of  the  Saloon  of  the  Princes  and  the  Empress's  Cabinet 
were  prepared  for  Napoleon  and  his  staff.  Though  the  workmen 
had  been  busily  employed  the  whole  of  the  preceding  day,  it  was 
two  o'clock  before  the  place  assigned  to  the  Council  of  Five 
Hundred  could  be  got  ready.  This  delay  produced  some  mur- 
muring and  inconveniences.  The  deputies  who  had  been  on  the 
spot  since  noon,  formed  groups  in  the  garden,  grew  warm  and  ani- 
mated, and  encouraged  one  another  in  their  opposition  to  the  new 
measures.  The  General-in-Chief  traversed  the  courts  and  the 
apartments,  and  giving  way  to  the  ill-disguised  impatience  of  his 
character,  was  heard  to  declare,  "  I  will    have  no  more   fictions, 

8 


86  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

all  that  must  cease  absolutely !"  more  in  the  authoritative  tone 
of  the  master  than  of  the  servant  of  the  state. 

As  soon  as  the  sittings  opened,  which  they  did  to  the  sound  of 
music  playing  the  Marseillois,  Emile  Gaudin,  one  of  the  Five 
Hundred,  ascended  the  tribune,  painted  in  alarming  colors  the 
dangers  of  the  country,  and  proposed  thanks  to  the  Council  of 
Ancients  for  the  measures  of  public  safety  which  it  had  taken,  at 
the  same  time  inviting  them  by  message  to  explain  themselves 
more  fully  on  the  means  of  saving  the  Republic.  This  motion 
became  the  signal  for  the  most  violent  tumult;  from  all  sides  of 
the  hall  loud  cries  of  disapprobation  were  directed  against  Gau- 
din :  the  speaker  in  the  confusion  was  hurled  violently  to  the 
bottom  of  the  tribune.  The  ferment  was  excessive.  The  repub- 
lican party  surrounded  the  tribune  and  the  chair  where  Lucien 
Buonaparte  presided.  Cabanis,  Boulay  de  la  Meurthe,  Chazal, 
Gaudin,  Chenier,  and  others  who  were  chiefly  concerned  in  the 
success  of  the  day,  grew  pale  and  uneasy  in  their  seats.  After 
a  long  and  violent  uproar,  during  which  no  one  could  make  him- 
self heard,  silence  was  restored  for  a  moment,  and  Del  bred  pro- 
posed to  renew  the  oath  to  the  Constitution  of  the  year  III.  The 
Chamber  from  this  proceeded  to  the  Appel  Nominal,  each  mem- 
ber by  turns  answering  to  his  name  and  giving  his  vote  at  the 
same  time.  During  the  Appel  Nominal  reports  of  what  was 
passing  reached  the  capital.  The  leaders  of  the  SoctfM  du 
Man&ge,  the  Iricoteuses  were  all  in  motion.  Jourdan  and  Au- 
gcreau,  who  had  hitherto  kept  out  of  the  way,  believing  Napo- 
leon lost,  hastened  to  St.  Cloud.  Augereau,  drawing  him  aside, 
said,  "Well,  here  you  are  in  a  fine  situation!'"'  "Remember 
Arcole,"  replied  Xapoleon  ;  "  matters  then  appeared  much  worse. 
Take  my  advice,  and  remain  quiet  for  half  an  hour,  and  you  will 
see  things  take  a  dillerent  turn." 

The  Assembly  appeared  to  declare  itself  with  so  much  unanim- 
ity, that  no  deputy  durst,  refuse  to  swear  fidelity  to  the  Constitu- 
te :i.  which  would  have  been  capital  in  the  circumstances:  even 
Lucien  was  compelled  to  take  the  oath.  Shouts  ami  cries  of  ap- 
probation were  heard  throughout  the  Chamber.  Many  members 
in  taking  the  oath,  added  observations  which  might  have  a  dan- 
gerous influence  on   the  troops.      No  time  was  to  be  lost.     Na- 


THE   EIGHTEENTH   OF   BRUMAIRE.  87 

poleon  crossed  the  Saloon  of  Mars,  entered  the  Council  of  Ancients, 
and  placed  himself  at  the  bar,  opposite  to  the  President.  Every 
thing  would  be  to  be  dreaded,  should  the  latter  Assembly  winch 
was  favorably  inclined  to  him,  catch  by  infection  the  tone  of  the 
Council  of  Five  Hundred.  "Representatives  of  the  People,"  he 
said,  "  you  are  here  in  no  ordinary  circumstances  ;  you  stand  on  a 
volcano.  Yesterday  1  was  living  in  privacy,  when  you  sent  for 
me  to  notify  to  me  the  decree  of  the  removal  of  the  Councils,  and 
to  charge  me  to  see  it  executed.  I  instantly  collected  around  me 
my  companions  in  arms  ;  we  have  flown  to  your  succor.  But  to 
day  1  am  loaded  with  calumnies:  they  talk  of  Csesar,  of  Crom- 
well, of  a  military  despotism.  If  I  had  wished  to  oppress  the  li- 
berties of  my  country,  I  should  not  have  listened  to  the  orders 
which  you  have  given  me  :  nor  should  I  have  needed  to  receive 
this  authority  at  your  hands.  More  than  once  (and  under  the 
most  favorable  circumstances)  have  I  been  called  upon  to  assume 
tin1  sovereign  power.  After  our  triumphs  in  Italy,  I  was  invited 
to  it  by  the  voice  of  my  comrades,  of  those  brave  men  who  have 
been  so  ill-used  since.  But  I  declined  doing  so,  because  T  did 
nut  think  my  interference  required  by  the  situation  of  the  country. 
I  swear  to  you,  Representatives  of  the  People,  the  country  has  no 
more  zealous  defender  than  myself;  but  it  is  to  you  that  it  must 
look  for  safety.  Danger  presses,  and  disasters  come  thick  upon 
us.  The  minister  of  Police  has  just  informed  me  that  several 
fortified  places  have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Chouans.  There 
is  no  longer  a  Government;  four  of  the  Directors  have  tendered 
their  lesignation;  the  fifth  (Barras)  is  under  surveillance.  The 
Council  of  Five  Hundred  is  divided,  and  influenced  by  agitators 
and  turbulent  men.  who  would  bring  back  the  time  of  revolution- 
ary tribunals,  and  who  are  now  sending  out  emissaries  to  instigate 
Paris  to  revolt.  Fear  not,  Representatives,  these  criminal  pro- 
jects ;  surrounded  by  my  brethren  in  arms.  I  shall  find  means  to 
protect  you  from  their  violence.  I  desire  nothing  for  myself,  but 
that  von  would  save  the  Republic;  and  as  you  cannot  make  the 
Constitution,  abused  as  it  has  been,  respected,  that  you  would  at 
least  preserve  the  Inundation  on  which  it  rests,  liberty  and  equal- 
ity. You  have  only  to  speak  the  word,  and  your  orders  shall  be 
obeyed.      And  you,  brave  grenadiers,  whose  caps  I  observe  at  the 


S8  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

doors  of  this  hall,  whom  I  have  so  often  led  to  victory  against  the 
satellites  of  kings,  I  who  am  now  accused  of  being  hostile  to  liberty, 
say,  did  I  ever  break  my  word  to  you,  when  in  the  camp,  in  the 
midst  of  privations,  I  promised  you  victory  and  plenty,  and  when 
at  your  head  I  led  you  from  conquest  to  conquest  ?  Now  say, 
was  it  for  my  own  aggrandizement,  or  for  the  interest  of  the  Re 
public  ?  And  let  those  who  talk  of  outlawing  me,  beware  how 
they  draw  that  condemnation  on  themselves.  Should  some  orator 
in  foreign  pay  propose  such  a  measure,  I  should  appeal  to  you, 
my  friends,  and  to  my  own  good  fjrtune.'"' 

The  General-in-Chief  in  thus  appealing  to  his  men,  spoke  with 
evident  emotion ;  and  the  grenadiers,  waving  their  caps  and 
brandishing  their  arms  in  the  air,  with  one  accord  testified  their 
assent.  Upon  this  Linnet,  one  of  the  most  resolute  members, 
rose  and  said  :  "  General,  we  applaud  what  you  say  ;  swear  then 
with  us  obedience  to  the  Constitution  of  the  year  III.  winch  can 
alone  save  the  Republic."  This  proposition  took  the  Council  by 
surprise,  and  Buonaparte  was  for  a  moment  disconcerted  by  it  ; 
but  he  recovered  himself  presently,  and  said  :  "  The  Constitution 
of  the  vear  III.  ?  you  have  it  no  longer.  You  violated  it  on  the 
13th  of  Fructidor  ;  you  violated  it  on  the  20th  of  Floreal  :  you 
violated  it  on  the  30th  of  Prairial.  The  Constitution  is  a  mockery 
invoked  by  all  parties,  and  infringed  by  them  all  in  turn.  It  can- 
not be  effectively  appealed  to,  since  it  has  the  respect  of  no  per- 
son. The  Constitution  once  violated,  it  is  necessary  to  have  re- 
course to  a  new  compact,  to  other  guarantees."  The  Council  ap- 
plauded the  reproaches  which  Buonaparte  thus  threw  out  against 
it,  and  rose  in  sign  of  approbation.  Cornudet  and  Regnier  spoke 
warmlv  to  the  same  effect.  A  member  of  the  opposition  party 
denounced  the  General  as  the  onlv  conspirator  against  public 
liberty.  Napoleon  interrupted  the  orator,  by  declaring  that  lie 
wns  in  the  secret  of  every  party,  and  that  all  despised  the  Consti- 
tution of  the  vear  111.  alike,  the  onlv  difference  being  that  some 
d"sired  to  have1  a  moderate  Republic,  in  which  all  the  national  in- 
terests and  all  property  should  be  respected,  while  others  wanted 
a  revolutionary  government,  with  a  renewal  of  all  the  disorders 
tliev  had  gone  through.  At  this  moment  Napoleon  was  informed 
that  the   Nominal  Appeal  was  terminated  in  the  Council  of  Five 


THE   EIGHTEENTH   OF   BRUMAIRE.  89 

Hundred,  and  that  they  were  endeavoring  to  force  the  President 
Lucien  to  put  the  outlawry  of  his  brother  to  the  vote.  Napoleon 
immediately  hastened  to  the  Five  Hundred,  entered  the  Chamber 
with  his  hat  off,  and  ordered  the  officers  and  soldiers  who  accom- 
panied him  to  wait  at  the  door  :  he  was  desirous  to  present  him- 
self at  the  bar,  to  rally  his  party,  which  was  numerous,  but  which 
had  lost  all  unity  and  resolution.  When  Napoleon  had  advanced 
alone  across  one-third  of  the  Orangery,  two  or  three  hundred  mem- 
bers suddenly  rose,  crying,  "  Death  to  ihe  tyrant  !  Pown  with 
the  Dictator  !"  Several  members  advanced  to  meet  him,  and 
Bigonet,  seizing  him  by  the  arm,  said,  "  What  are  you  thinking  of, 
rash  man  ?  Withdraw  ;  you  profane  the  sanctuary  of  the  laws." 
Buonaparte  stopped,  and  turned  round  :  and  the  grenadiers,  seeing 
what  was  passing,  rushed  forward  and  forced  him  out  of  the 
chamber.  In  the  confusion  one  of  them,  named  Thome,  was 
slightly  wounded  by  the  thrust  of  a  dagger. 

The  absence  of  the  General  did  not  restore  quiet.  All  the 
members  spoke  at  once,  every  one  proposed  some  measure  of  pub- 
lic safety  and  defence.  They  loaded  Lucien  Buonaparte  with  re- 
proaches ;  the  latter  justified  his  brother,  but  with  hesitation.  He 
at  length  succeeded  in  mounting  the  tribune,  and  appealed  to  the 
Council  to  judge  his  brother  with  less  rigor.  He  assured  them 
that  he  entertained  no  designs  contrary  to  liberty — he  recalled  his 
services.  But  several  voices  cried  out,  "  lie  has  forfeited  all  his 
claims  :"  the  tumult  became  more  violent  than  ever,  and  they  de- 
manded the  outlawry  of  General  Buonaparte.  "  What !"  ex- 
claimed Lucien,  "do  you  wish  me  to  pronounce  the  sentence  of 
outlawry  against  my  brother,  the  saviour  of  his  country!  of  him 
whose  very  name  makes  kings  tremble  ?" — "  Yes,  yes,  it  is  the  re- 
ward of  tyrants."  It  was  then  proposed  and  put  to  the  vote  in 
the  midst  of  all  this  disorder,  that  the  Council  should  be  declared 
permanent,  and  should  repair  instantly  to  its  place  of  meeting  in 
Paris  ;  that  the  troops  assembled  at  St.  Cloud  should  bo  con- 
sidered as  forming  part  of  the  guard  of  the  Legislative  Body, 
and  the  command  given  to  General  Bernadotte.  Lucien.  con- 
founded by  so  many  propositions,  and  by  the  vote  oi  outlawry 
which  he  thought  was  adopted  among  the  rest,  quitted  the  chair, 
mounted  the  tribune,  and  called  out  in  a  state  of  the  greatest  agi- 


»0  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


iation,  "  Since  I  can  no  longer  obtain  a  hearing  in  this  assembly, 
I  lay  aside  with  the  deep  feeling  of  insulted  dignity  the  symbols 
of  the  popular  magistracy."  Saying  this,  he  stripped  himself  of 
his  cloak  and  his  President's  scarf. 

Meanwhile,  Buonaparte  had  some  difficulty,  on  coining  out  of 
the  Council  of  Five  Hundred,  in  recovering  from  his  embarrass- 
ment. Little  accustomed  to  scenes  of  popular  violence,  he  hud 
been  a  good  deal  staggered.  This  is  easily  understood,  for  no 
man  has  more  than  one  kind  of  courage,  namely,  in  those  things 
in  which  he  is  accustomed  to  feel  his  power  and  see  his  way 
clearly.  Even  our  habitual  confidence  and  success  in  other 
things  operate  as  a  drawback  rather  than  otherwise,  for  we  are 
the  more  struck  with  the  contrast  and  the  want  of  our  usual  re- 
sources, and  exaggerate  every  trifling  impediment  into  a  serious 
objection.  His  officers  formed  a  circle  round  him  ;  and  Sieves, 
more  seasoned  to  revolutionary  storms,  sent  to  advise  the  instant  em- 
ployment of  force.  General  Lefebvre  directly  received  orders  to 
bring  off  Lueien  from  the  Council.  A  detachment  of  soldiers  en- 
tered the  hall,  advanced  towards  the  chair,  of  which  Lueien  had 
again  taken  possession,  enclosed  him  in  their  ranks,  and  saying,  "  It 
is  your  brother's  orders'5  (for  he  was  at  first  surprised  at  their  ap- 
pearance,) returned  with  him  in  triumph  into  the  midst  of  the 
troops.  As  soon  as  Lueien  was  at  liberty,  he  got  on  horseback 
by  th''  side  of  Ids  brother,  and  though  strippi  d  of  his  legal  title, 
still  harangued  the  troops  as  President,  lie  declared  that  the 
majority  of  tin:'  Live  Hundred  were  intimidated  and  prevented 
from  coming  to  anv  regular  deliberation  by  a  handful  of  assassins. 
Raising  his  powerful  voice,  lie  exclaimed.  "  General,  and  you  sol- 
diers, and  all  you  who  are  citizens,  you  will  recognize  as  legisla- 
tors of  France  only  those  who  are  willing  to  follow  me.  As  to 
those  who  shall  remain  in  the  Orangery,  let  them  be  expelled  bv 
toree.  Those  banditti,  armed  with  poniards,  are  no  longer  the 
Representatives  of  the  people!"  After  this  furious  philippic, 
Buonaparte  took  up  the  discourse  :  "Soldiers,"  he  said.  "  I  have 
li  d  you  to  victory  ;  may  1  rely  upon  you  ?  ' — "lies,  yes ;  long 
live  our  General  !"  '-Soldiers,  there  was  reason  to  believe  that 
the  Council  of  Five  Hundred  would  save  the  country  :  on  tho 
contrary,  it  is  given  up  to  dissensions  within  itself;   turbulent  and 


THE   EIGHTEENTH   OF   ERUMAIRE.  9] 

designing  men  are  trying  to  direct  all  its  rage  against  me.  Sol- 
diers, can  I  rely  on  you  ?" — "  Yes,  yes  !"  "  Well,  then,  I 
am  about  to  bring  them  to  reason  :"  and  so  saying,  he  gave 
orders  to  some  superior  officers  about  him  to  clear  the  Hall  of*  the 
Five  Hundred. 

The  Council,  after  the  departure  of  Lucicn,  was  given  up  to 
the  most  cruel  anxiety  and  most  lamentable  indecision.  Some 
members  proposed  to  return  to  Paris  in  a  body,  and  throw  them- 
selves on  the  protection  of  the  people  ;  others  were  for  waiting 
the  issue  and  setting  at  defiance  the  violence  witli  which  they 
were  threatened.  While  these  discussions  were  going  on,  a  troop 
of  grenadiers  entered  the  hall,  proceeded  slowly  up  it,  and  the 
officers  commanding  it  notified  to  the  Council  the  order  to  disperse 
itself.  The  deputy  Prudhon  reminded  the  officer  and  the  soldiers 
of  the  respect  due  to  the  Representatives  of  the  People  ;  General 
Jourdan  also  pointed  out  the  enormity  of  their  present  proceeding. 
The  troops  hesitated  a  little,  but  a  reinforcement  entered  in  close 
column  with  General  Leclerc  at  its  head,  who  said  aloud,  "  In  the 
name  of  General  Buonaparte,  the  legislative  corps  is  dissolved  ; 
let  all  good  citizens  retire.  Grenadiers,  forward  !"  Cries  of  in- 
dignation rose  from  all  parts  of  the  hall,  but  they  were  stifled  by 
the  sound  of  the  drums.  The  grenadiers  advanced,  occupying 
the  whole  width  of  the  Orangery,  slowly  and  presenting  bayonets. 
They  thus  drove  the  Legislative  body  before  them,  who  withdrew 
amidst  cries  of  Long  Jive  the  Republic  !  At  half-past  five  o'clock, 
19th  of  Brumaire  (10th  of  November),  there  was  no  longer  any 
representation  of  the  people. 

About  one  hundred  deputies  of  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred 
rallied  and  joined  the  Council  of  Ancients,  who  had  witnessed  the 
foregoing  scene  of  military  violence  with  some  uneasiness,  but  were 
soon  satisfied  with  the  explanations  that  were  given.  At  eleven  at 
night  the  two  Councils  re-assembled  ;  and  two  Committees  were 
appointed  to  report  upon  the  state  of  the  Republic.  On  the  mo- 
tion of  Berenger,  thanks  to  Napoleon  and  the  troops  were  carried. 
Boulay  de  la  Meurthe  in  the  Five  Hundred,  and  Villetard  in  the 
Ancients,  stated  the  situation  of  the  country  and  the  measures 
necessary  to  be  taken.  The  law  of  the  19th  of  Brumaire  was 
passed,  which  adjourned  the  Councils  to  the   1st  of  Ventose  fol- 


9!l  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


lowing  ;  and  authorized  two  Committees  of  twenty-five  members 
each  to  represent  the  Councils  ad  interim.  These  Committees 
were  also  instructed  to  prepare  a  civil  code.  A  Provisional  Con- 
sular Commission,  consisting  of  Sieves,  Roger  Ducos,  and  Napo- 
leon, was  charged  with  the  executive  power.  The  Provisional 
Consuls  repaired  on  the  20th  at  two  in  the  morning  to  the  Cham- 
ber of  the  Orangery,  where  the  Councils  were  then  sitting.  Lu- 
cien,  as  President,  addressed  them  in  these  words  :  "  Citizen  Con- 
suls, the  greatest,  people  on  earth  entrusts  its  fate  to  you.  Three 
months  hence,  your  measures  must  pass  the  ordeal  of  public 
opinion.  Tlie  welfare  of  thirty  millions  of  men,  internal  quiet,  the 
wants  of  the  armies,  peace — such  are  to  be  the  objects  of  your 
cares.  Doubtless,  courage  and  devotion  to  your  duties  are  requi- 
site in  taking  upon  you  functions  so  important ;  but  the  confidence 
of  our  people  and  warriors  is  with  you,  and  the  Legislative  Body 
is  convinced  that  your  hearts  are  wholly  with  the  country.  Citi- 
zen Consuls,  we  have  previously  to  adjourning  taken  the  oath, 
which  you  will  repeat  in  the  midst  of  us  ;  the  sacred  oath  of 
fidelity  to  the  sovereignty  of  the  people,  to  the  French  Republic 
one  and  indivisible,  to  liberty,  to  equality,  and  to  the  representa- 
tive 'system."  The  Assembly  separated,  and  the  Consuls  re- 
turner! to  Paris  to  the  Palace  of  the  Luxembourg.  Thus  was  the 
Revolution  of  the  18th  Brumaire  effected  without  blood,  but  not 
without  violence  or  falsehood. 

At  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening  of  the  19th,  the  news  had  spread 
from  St.  Cloud  throughout  Paris;  and  the  following  proclamation, 
signed  by  Buonaparte,  was  read  by  torchlight. 

"Citizens!  On  my  return  to  Paris  I  found  discord  pervading 
every  department  of  Government,  and  only  this  single  truth  unan- 
imously agreed  on — that  the  Constitution  was  half-destroyed, 
and  no  longer  capable  of  maintaining  our  liberties.  Every 
party  by  turns  applied  to  me,  entrusted  me  with  its  designs,  dis- 
closed its  secrets,  and  solicited  my  support.  1  refused  to  be- 
come the  head  of  any  faction.  The  Council  of  Ancients  called 
on  me.  1  answered  the  appeal.  A  plan  for  a  general  reform 
had  been  devised  by  men  in  whom  the  nation  is  accustomed  to 
Dehold  the  defenders  of  liberty,  of  justice,  and  of  property:  this 
plan  demanded  calm,  free,  and    impartial  examination,  unfettered 


THE  EIGHTEENTH   OF   BRUMAIRE.  93 

by  influence  or  fear.  The  Council  of  Ancients  therefore  deter- 
mined upon  the  removal  of  the  Legislative  Body  to  St.  Cloud.  It 
entrusted  me  with  the  disposal  of  the  force  necessary  for  the  main- 
tenance of  its  independence.  I  deemed  it  due  from  me  to  my  fel- 
low-citizens, to  the  soldiers  who  are  laying  down  their  lives  in  our 
ranks,  to  the  glory  purchased  by  their  blood,  to  accept  the  com- 
mand. The  Councils  met  at  St.  Cloud,  the  troops  of  the  Repub- 
lic guaranteed  safety  without ;  but  assassins  spread  terror  within. 
The  plans  which  were  to  have  been  brought  forward  were  withheld  ; 
the  majority  of  the  Assembly  was  disorganized  ;  the  most  intrepid 
speakers  were  disconcerted  ;  and  the  inutility  of  any  sober  proposi- 
tion became  but  too  evident.  Indignant  and  grieved,  I  hastened  to 
the  Council  of  Ancients  :  I  entreated  it  to  allow  me  to  carry  its  de- 
signs for  the  public  good  into  execution.  I  urged  the  misfortunes  of 
the  country  which  had  suggested  them.  The  Council  seconded  my 
views  by  new  testimonies  of  unabated  confidence.  I  then  offered 
myself  to  the  chamber  of  Five  Hundred — alone,  unarmed,  my 
head  uncovered,  as  I  had  been  received  by  the  Ancients  with  so 
much  approbation.  Instantly  the  daggers  which  had  menaced 
the  deputies  were  raised  against  their  defender.  Twenty  assas- 
sins rushed  upon  me,  aiming  at  my  breast.  The  grenadiers  of 
the  Legislative  Body,  whom  I  had  left  at  the  door  of  the  Cham- 
ber, hastily  interposed  between  these  murderers  and  myself.  Ono 
of  these  brave  fellows  (Thome)  received  a  thrust  with  a  dagger, 
which  pierced  through  his  clothes.  They  carried  me  off;  and 
at  the  instant  they  were  doing  so,  cries  were  heard,  demanding 
the  outlawry  of  him  who  was  at  that  very  time  the  defender 
of  the  law.  They  crowded  round  the  President,  threatening 
him  with  arms  in  their  hands,  and  requiring  him  to  pronounce 
the  outlawry.  Apprised  of  this,  I  gave  directions  for  rescuing 
him  from  their  fury,  and  ten  grenadiers  of  the  Legislative  Body 
charged  into  the  Chamber  and  cleared  it.  The  factious  parties, 
intimidated,  dispersed,  and  fled.  The  majority,  relieved  from 
their  violence,  returned  freely  and  peaceably  into  the  Chamber, 
listened  to  the  proposals  made  to  them  ;  and  on  due  deliberation, 
framed  the  wholesome  resolutions  which  are  about  to  become  the 
new  and  provisional  law  of  the  Republic.  Frenchmen!  you  will 
doubtless  recognize  in  my  conduct  the  zeal  of  a  soldier  of  liberty, 


94  LIFE    OF    XAPOLEON. 

of  a  citizen  devoted  to  the  republic.  The  principles  on  which  se- 
curity, liberty,  and  property  depend,  are  restored  to  their  due 
preponderance  by  the  dispersion  of  those  factious  men  who  tyran- 
nized over  the  Councils,  and  who.  though  they  have  been  pre- 
vented from  becoming  the  most  hateful  of  men,  are  nevertheless 
the  most  wretched." 

This  proclamation  is  one  of  those  things  in  which  Buonaparte 
appears  in  the  most  unfavorable  light,  and  which  have  afforded 
the  greatest  handle  to  his  enemies.  It  is  a  tissue  of  glaring  mis- 
representations or  paltry  and  ill-disguised  subterfuges.  It  betrays 
either  a  panic-fear  unworthy  of  a  brave  man,  or  a  gratuitous  and 
barefaced  hypocrisy,  unworthy  of  an  honest  one.  If  his  conduct 
was  called  for  by  strong  necessity,  let  it  be  justified  on  that 
ground  :  if  it  had  only  ambition  to  plead,  let  it  be  justified  by 
its  success  ;  and  not  in  either  case  by  a  multiplication  of  air- 
drawn  daggers  and  womanish  apprehensions,  which  are  beneath 
the  dignity  of  public  affairs,  and  seem  more  like  a  parody  on  Fal- 
staff's  i;  ten  men  in  buckram."  than  a  part  of  serious  history. 
There  is  nothing  that  posterity  forgive  so  unwillingly  as  a  lie. 
That  is  peculiarly  their  affair.  The  actual  evil  may  have  passed 
away,  but  the  insult  to  the  understanding  remains,  and  the  at- 
tempt to  take  from  us  the  means  of  coming  to  a  right  judgment 
causes  a  fresh  resentment  every  time  it  is  thought  of.  Buona- 
parte appears  to  have  boon  haunted  by  a  preposterous  and  fever- 
ish dread  of  the  Jacobins  :  and  this  dread  showed  itself  not 
merely  in  descriptions  and  denunciations,  but  in  a  very  unwar- 
rantable behavior  towards  them  -  i  in  after,  in  the  business  of  the' 
Infernal  Machine.  \\  by  take  such  pains  or  make  so  great  a 
merit  of  preventing  this  party  from  declaring  the  country  in  dan- 
ger a  little  before  this  period  ?  \\  hatever  use  they  might  have 
made  of  such  a  declaration,  thev  were  so  far  at  least  right  in 
thinking  some  strong  measures  and  a  change  of  system  neces- 
sarv  ;  tor  Buonaparte  himself  resorted  to  the  strongest  of  all 
measures,  the  overthr  >w  i  :'  the  <  .;  ivernment,  on  the  plea  of  the 
dangers  and  distresses  of  the  country.  How  then  could  he  con- 
sistently blame  their  reus  iiiings  or  their  object,  though  he  might 
disapprove  of  the  m    le      :'  e    mini,    t!   il  ct  into  effect,   or  of 

the  extent  to  which  tl;e\    ::;'._'.'  push  it  ]      Thev  were  in   fact  tlte 


THE   EIGHTEENTH   OF   BRUMAIRE.  95 

only  men  of  active  and  energetic  character  opposed  to  him  ir  the 
career  of  power  and  popularity  ;  and  besides,  he  might  be  dis 
gusted  with  the  excesses  they  had  already  committed  and  which 
might  be  renewed,  and  which  appeared  to  have  so  little  tendency 
to  strengthen  their  cause.  He  preferred  his  weapons  to  theirs, 
not  less  from  taste  than  policy.  A  battle  gained  was  a  new  pillar 
or  trophy  added  to  the  Temple  of  Liberty  :  a  civil  massacre  only 
-urned  it  into  a  shambles  slippery  with  blood,  where  it  was  unsafe 
to  stand  and  disagreeable  to  enter.  There  was  certainly  some- 
thing repulsive  and  sickening  in  the  disproportion  between  the 
violence  of  the  means  and  the  stability  of  the  end  produced  by 
these  men.  Theirs  was  only  an  extreme  remedy,  which  was  to  be 
avoided  as  long  as  possible.  Another  reign  of  terror,  followed  by 
another  reaction  (its  natural  consequence),  could  hardly  have  failed 
to  lead,  by  a  revolting  gradation,  to  the  return  of  the  ancient  re- 
gime. Buonaparte  had  no  such  ground  of  objection  to  Sieyes's  party, 
who  were  neither  men  of  active  habits  nor  of  strong  passions,  and 
whose  line-spun  theories  could  be  easily  made  to  give  way  to  cir- 
cumstances, and  their  paper  constitutions  pierced  by  the  sword. 
They  were  the  ideal  party,  who  in  all  cases  are  more  intent  upon 
forming  speculations  than  on  realizing  them,  and  who,  thougn 
they  may  be  troublesome  associates,  are  seldom  formidable  rivals. 
There  was  a  third  party  which  Buonaparte  had  to  keep  at  bay.  that 
of  the  royalists  and  foreign  princes  ;  and  it  was  his  triumph  over 
this,  and  his  fitness  and  determination  to  contend  against  it,  re- 
doubling blows  on  blows,  and  victories  on  victories,  that  secured 
him  the  co-operation  and  good  wishes  of  the  great  body  of  the 
state  and  of  the  most  constant  lovers  of  liberty.  If  the  Revolu- 
tion had  been  firmly  and  securely  established  without  him,  and 
he  had  erased  or  undermined  the  stately  fabric,  to  raise  his  own 
power  upon  the  ruins,  then  he  would  have  been  entitled  to  the 
execration  of  the  friends  of  freedom,  and  would  have  received  the 
thanks  of  its  hereditary  enemies  :  but  the  building  had  already 
been  endangered  and  nodded  to  its  fall,  had  been  defaced  and 
broken  in  pieces  by  internal  discord  and  by  foreign  war;  and  the 
arch  of  power  and  ambition  that  he  reared  stood  on  ground  for- 
feited over  and  over  again  to  humanity  ;  the  laurels  that  he 
won,   and   the    wreathed  diadem  he  wore,  were  for  having  during 


96  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

fifteen  years  avenged  the  cause  of  liberty  by  triumphing  over 
its  insolent  and  unrelenting  foes,  and  thus  shielding  its  sacred 
name  from  insult.  It  was  not  till  after  his  fall  that  liberty  be- 
came a  bye-word,  and  that  the  warning  voice  was  once  more 
addressed  to  mankind — "  Discite  justitiam  moniti,  ct  non  temnere 
reges 1" 


PROVISIONAL   CONSULS.  97 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 


PROVISIONAL    CONSULS. 


On  the  morning  of  the  1 1th  of  November  1799  the  new  Con- 
suls held  their  first  sittings.  Buonaparte  took  the  chair  and  Maret 
was  appointed  Secretary,  in  the  room  of  Legarde,  who  had  held 
that  situation  under  the  Directory.  Maret,  a  native  of  Dijon,  who 
afterwards  figured  as  Duke  of  Bassano  and  was  greatly  attached 
to  Napoleon,  was  a  man  of  mild  manners  and  of  considerable 
ability.  He  was  attached  to  the  early  principles  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, but  had  fled  during  the  reign  of  Robespierre,  and  was  ar- 
rested by  the  Austrians  with  Semonville  as  he  crossed  Lombardy 
on  his  way  to  Venice.  After  the  9th  of  Thermidor  (which  put 
an  end  to  the  power  of  Robespierre)  he  was  exchanged  for 
Madame,  the  daughter  of  Louis  XVI.,  then  a  prisoner  in  the 
Temple. 

The  first  sitting  of  the  Consuls  lasted  several  hours.  Sieves 
had  not  been  without  hope  that  Napoleon  would  interfere  only 
with  military  matters,  and  would  leave  the  regulation  of  civil  af- 
fairs to  him  ;  and  he  was  much  surprised  when  he  found  that 
Napoleon  had  formed  settled  opinions  on  policy,  finance,  and  ju- 
risprudence, and  in  short  on  all  the  branches  of  administration  ; 
that  he  supported  his  arguments  with  clearness,  and  was  not  easily 
turned  from  his  purpose.  In  the  evening,  on  returning  home,  he 
said  aloud  in  the  presence  of  Chazal,  Talleyrand,  Boulay,  Rcederer. 
Cabanis.  and  others,  "Gentlemen,  you  have  a  master:  Napoleon 
will  do  all.  and  can  do  all  without  your  assistance.  In  our  situa- 
tion, it  is  better  to  submit  than  to  encourage  dissensions  which 
must  end  in  certain  ruin." 

The  first  act  of  Government  was  the  new-modelling  of  the  Min- 
istry. Dubois  de  Crance  was  Minister-at-War,  but  was  so  little 
fitted  for  or  attentive  to  his  office,  that  he   could   not   furnish  the 

VOL.   II.  6  9 


US  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


Consuls  with  a  single  report  on  the  state  of  the  Army.  Berthier 
was  appointed  in  his  stead,  who  was  a  month  before  he  could  col- 
lect materials  for  drawing  up  a  proper  report.  When  Dubois  de 
Crance  was  asked,  "  You  pay  the  army  ;  you  can  surely  give  us 
a  return  of  the  pay  ?"  the  answer  Mas,  "  We  don't  pay  it." 
"  You  victual  the  army  ;  let  us  have  the  returns  of  the  victualing. 
office  V — "  We  don't  victual  it."  "  You  clothe  the  army  ;  let  us 
see  the  statement  of  the  clothing?" — "We  don't  clothe  it.' 
The  army  at  home  was  paid  by  robbing  the  treasury:  abroad,  it 
was  subsisted  and  clothed  by  means  of  requisitions,  and  the  War- 
office  exercised  no  kind  of  control.  The  army  in  Holland,  which 
had  just  repulsed  the  English,  was  in  good  condition,  as  the 
Dutch  according  to  treaty,  had  to  supply  all  its  wants.  But  those 
of  the  Rhine,  of  Switzerland,  and  Italy  were  in  a  state  of  lamen- 
table privation  and  of  the  greatest  insubordination.  As  soon  as 
the  reform  of  the  War-Department  was  effected  discipline  was 
easily  restored.  The  post  of  Minister  of  Finance  was  held  by 
Robert  Lindet,  who  had  been  a  member  of  the  Committee  of  Pub- 
lic Safetv  under  Robespierre,  an  honest  man,  and  accounted  an 
able  financier  at  a  time  when  the  true  Minister  of  Finance  was 
the  printer  of  the  assignats.  Lindet  was  succeeded  by  Gaudin, 
afterwards  Duke  of  Gaeta,  who  had  been  long  employed  in  that 
department.  The  treasury  was  empty  :  there  was  not  where- 
withal to  dispatch  a  courier  in  it.  Nothing  came  into  it  but 
cheque's,  bills,  notes,  schedules,  and  paper  of  all  kinds,  on  which 
the  receipts  of  the  armv  had  been  consumed  bv  anticipation.  The 
contractors  being  paid  in  drafts  themselves,  drew  direct lv  on  the 
receivers,  as  fast  as  anything  came  into  their  hands ;  and  yet 
thev  did  no  service.  The  rate  of  interest  was  at  six  per  cent. 
Every  source  of  supply  was  dried  up;  credit  was  in  a  great 
measure  annihilated  ;  all  was  disorder,  waste  and  destruction. 
The  new  minist  r,  Gaudin.  adopted  measures  which  put  a  stop  to 
these  abuses  and  restored  confidence.  He  suppressed  the  coin- 
pulsorv  loan,  which  had  produced  as  bad  an  effect  on  property  as 
that  w  inch  the  law  ol  id    produced   on   the   liberty  and 

of  the  people':  raided  twentv-four  millions  of  livn-s  on  the 
sale  of  the  domains  of  the  11  >usi  of  Orange,  which  France  had 
reserved  to  itself  bv  the  treaty  of  the  Hague ;    made  a  saving  of 


PROVISIONAL   CONSULS.  99 

two  millions  yearly  in  the  collection  of  the  direct  imposts ;  crea- 
ted a  redemption-fund,  in  which  the  receivers  of  taxes  were  obliged 
to  deposite  a  twentieth  part  of  their  receipts;  and  put  the  forest- 
ands  under  the  best  regulation,  from  which,  when  properly  man- 
aged, the  Republic  was  entitled  to  receive  forty  millions  of  livres 
a  year.  Such  was  the  patriotic  zeal  and  conscientious  integrity 
of  the  new  minister,  that  he  would  not  go  to  bed  or  sleep  a  single 
night,  after  he  had  received  the  portfolio  of  finance,  till  he  had 
devised  a  scheme  for  abolishing  some  of  the  most  glaring  abuses 
ir  his  department.  All  that  he  did  or  proposed  at  this  early  pe- 
riod, he  strengthened  and  perfected  during  fifteen  years  of  an 
able  administration.  He  never  had  occasion  to  withdraw  any  of 
ms  measures,  because  his  knowledge  was  practical,  the  fruit  of 
long  and  attentive  experience. 

Cambaceres  retained  the  administration  of  Justice,  and  Rein- 
nard  that  of  Foreign  Affairs.  Talleyrand  was  still  unpopular, 
particularly  on  account  of  his  conduct  in  regard  to  America; 
and  besides,  till  the  Government  was  established  and  put  into  an 
imposing  attitude,  it  was  not  the  time  for  him  to  come  forward  as 
a  negociator,  or  to  play  his  cards  to  advantage.  Bourdon  resigned 
the  Admiralty  to  Forfait,  a  native  of  Normandy,  with  a  great 
reputation  as  a  naval  architect,  but  who  turned  out  a  mere  pro- 
jector. The  Consuls  also  found  they  had  been  mistaken  in  ap- 
pointing Laplace  to  succeed  Quinctte  as  Minister  of  the  Interior. 
This  great  geometrician  proved  totallv  inadequate  to  the  post  that 
was  assigned  him  :  he  sought  for  subtleties  in  the  most  common 
things,  looked  at  every  question  in  a  problematical  point  of  view, 
and  carried  the  doctrine  of  the  infinite  divisibility  of  matter  into 
the  business  of  the  state.  Hitherto  the  official  appointments  made 
by  the  Consuls  had  been  unanimous  ;  their  first  difference  of 
opinion  arose  with  respect  to  the  Minister  of  Police.  Fouche 
had  the  character  of  being  sanguinary,  venal,  insincere.  Sieves 
detested  him,  and  considered  the  Government  as  insecure  while 
he  presided  over  the  Police.  Napoleon  wished  to  retain  him,  and 
remarked  that  with  all  his  faults,  he  had  been  serviceable  to  the 
Republic.  "  We  are  creating  a  new  era,"'  he  said  ;  "  in  the  past 
we  must  remember  only  the  good,  and  forget  the  evil.  Time, 
habits  of  business,  and  reflection  have  formed  many  able  men  ana 


100  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

modified  many  indifferent  characters."  This  is  not  a  just  vie"* 
of  human  nature  in  general,  which  never  changes  ;  nor  did  the 
present  instance  turn  out  an  exception  to  the  common  rule. 
Buonaparte  was  fond  of  playing  with  edged  tools,  thinking  he 
could  turn  their  good  qualities  to  account,  and  by  dexterous 
management  prevent  their  hurting  him.  lie  could  not  well  part 
with  Fouche  ;  the  ability  was  an  indispensable  requisite,  the  want 
of  principle  was  not  so  absolute  an  objection  as  perhaps  it  ought 
to  have  been.  The  Department  of  the  Posts  was  given  to  La- 
foret,  who  had  been  Consul-General  in  America.  The  Poly- 
technic School  was  then  only  in  its  infancy.  The  charge  of  it 
was  given  to  Monge,  under  whose  direction  it  became  one  of  the 
most  celebrated  in  the  world,  and  rendered  the  most  important 
services  to  the  country  in  every  department,  whether  of  peace  or 
war. 

The  new  Government,  in  spite  of  its  activitv  and  attention  to 
the  public  interest,  had  still  many  enemies  to  contend  with. 
When  we  do  not  acknowledge  the  right  to  power,  the  abuse  of  it 
is  the  only  thing  that  can  reconcile  us  to  it.  Wise  or  salutary 
measures  in  that  case  irritate  our  dislike  and  opposition,  by  ren- 
dering it  hopeless.  Insurrections  broke  out  in  La  \  endee,  Lan- 
guedoc  and  the  Netherlands.  The  royalist  party,  which  formany 
months  hail  been  gaining  strength,  was  severely  mortified  at  a 
change  that  threatened  to  crush  all  their  expectations.  The 
anarchists  and  defeated  members  of  the  Manege  kept  Sieves  in 
continual  alarm,  who  once  came  in  the  greatest  agitation  and 
awuke  Napoleon  at  three  in  the  morning,  to  toll  him  of  some  plot 
of  which  the  Police  had  just  informed  him.  '■  Lot  them  come,'"' 
replied  the  latter  ;  "in  war  as  well  as  in  love  we  must  come  to 
o!  ise  quarters  to  make  an  end  of  it.  It  mav  as  -well  be  settled 
one  dav  as  another."'  The  law  of  the  19th  of  Brumaire  had  en- 
j  u'ned  the  Government  t  i  provide  measures  for  restoring  the  pub- 
lic tranquillity.  Fifty-five  members  had  been  expelled  from  the 
Legislative  Body  ;  and  as  they  'lid  not  desist  from  their  machina- 
tions and  refused  to  quit  Paris,  thev  with  some  other  party-leaders 
were  sentenced  to  banishment,  thirtv-seven  to  Guiana,  and  twenty- 
mo to  the  island  of  Oleron.  This  decree,  which  was  thought  too 
/iolent  at  the  time,   had  the  effect    of  dispersing  the  disaffected, 


PROVISIONAL   CONSULS.  101' 


hut  was  merely  held  in  tcrrorem  over  them  hv  a  while,  and  was 
never  carried  into  execution.  By  degrees  the  people  felt  assured  ; 
aJdresses  came  pouring  in  from  every  quarter;  and  the  Govern 
uient,  confident  of  its  increasing  strength,  did  all  in  its  power  to 
mitigate  the  rage  of  parties  and  close  up  old  wounds.  The  law 
of'  hostages,  which  had  been  passed  in  July  1799,  and  by  means 
of  which  great  numbers  of  individuals  had  been  thrown  into 
prison,  as  the  relations  of  emigrants  and  persons  bearing  arms 
against  the  Republic,  was  repealed.  During  the  ascendency  of 
'die  Theophilanthropists  (such  was  the  power  of  intolerance  and 
the  narrowness  of  party-spirit)  little  attention  was  paid  to  the  dis- 
tinction between  refractory  priests  and  those  who  had  submitted 
to  the  oaths  ;  some  had  been  sent  to  the  Isle  of  Rhe,  some  to 
Guiana,  some  into  foreign  countries,  and  others  languished  in 
prison.  It  was  agreed  upon  as  a  principle  by  the  Provisional 
Government,  that  conscience  was  not  amenable  to  the  law,  and 
that  the  right  of  the  sovereign  extended  no  farther  than  to  the  ex- 
action of  obedience  and  fidelity. 

Napoleon,  who  had  had  occasion  to  see  and  reflect  much  on 
religious  questions  and  on  the  subject  of  toleration  both  in  Italy 
and  Egypt,  lost  no  time  in  putting  a  stop  to  this  species  of  perse- 
cution, no  longer  called  fir  by  the  circumstances  of  the  times.  It 
was  decreed  that  ever}'  priest  banished  or  imprisoned,  who  would 
take  an  oath  of  fidelity  to  the  established  Government,  should 
immediately  be  restored  to  his  liberty.  Within  a  short  time  after 
the  passing  of  the  law.  more  than  twenty  thousand  persons  of  this 
class  returned  to  their  families.  Only  a  few  of  the  most  bigotted 
or  ignorant  persisted  in  their  obstinacy  and  remained  in  exile. 
At  this  period  also,  the  law  of  the  decades  was  repealed,  the 
churches  were  again  opened  to  public  worship,  and  pen-ions 
were  granted  to  persons  of  both  sexes  under  religious  vows,  who 
took  the  oath  of  fidelity  to  the  Government.  Nothing  is  more 
difficult  than  to  draw  the  line  in  such  cases,  or  to  know  where  to 
stop  in  the  nice  interval  between  true  liberality  and  officious  in- 
terference. Thus  the  allowing  persons  of  both  sexes  to  devote, 
themselves  to  monastic  vows,  if  their  conscience  pricks  them, 
and  they  so  choose  it,  is  a  dictate  of  the  true  principles  of  tolera- 
tion, it  is  their  affair,  and  no  business  of  the  Government;  but 

a* 


iOS  LIFE    OF    NAPOLKOX. 


that  it  is  no  business  of  the  Government  to  encourage  this  sort  cf 
indolent  seclusion  by  positive  rewards,  and  to  grant  pensions  to 
those  who  may  incline  to  it,  seems  equally  certain,  and  a  conse- 
quence of  the  same  doctrine  of  absolute  neutrality  in  questions 
of  a  theological  nature.  Pope  Pius  VI.  had  died  not  long  before 
at  Valence,  at  the  age  of  eighty-two.  In  passing  through, 
Napoleon  had  learnt  that  no  funeral  honors  had  been  paid  to  him, 
and  his  corpse  was  laid  in  the  sacristy  of  the  cathedral.  A  de- 
cree of  the  Consuls  ordered  that  the  customary  honors  should  be 
rendered  to  his  remains,  and  a  marble  monument  raised  over  his 
tomb.  It  was  an  homage  paid  by  the  First  Consul  and  the 
majority  of  the  French  nation  to  an  unfortunate  sovereign  and 
the  head  of  the  Church.  So  far  all  was  well  ;  but  persons  arid 
principles  are  closely  connected  together  in  the  human  mind,  and 
respect  is  seldom  shown  to  one  without  an  intention  of  favoring 
the  other.  It  is  from  the  rare  union  of  moderation  and  firmness, 
that  liberalitv  is  so  apt  to  be  suspected  of  something  insidious, 
and  that  favors  or  lenity  shown  to  an  adversary  are  considered  as 
treachery  to  your  own  party.  It  was  on  this  account  that  the 
erasure  of  the  members  of  the  Constituent  Assembly,  who  had 
formally  acknowledged  the  sovereignty  of  the  people,  from  the 
list  of  emigrants,  occasioned  great  uneasiness.  "  The  emigrants," 
it  was  said,  '•  will  return  in  crowds  ;  the  royalist  party  will  raise 
its  head,  as  it  did  in  Fructidor  ;  the  republicans  will  be  massa- 
cred." In  virtue  of  this  law,  the  excellent  and  blameless  La 
Favette,  Latour-Maubourg.  and  Bureau  de  Puzv  returned  to 
France  and  to  the  peaceful  enjoyment  of  their  property,  which 
had  not  been  alienated,  h  was  at  least  worth  while  to  excite 
some  alarm,  and  even  to  run  some  risk  for  the  purpose  of  restor- 
ing a  man  like  La  Fayette  to  his  country,  who.  in  the  dungeons 
of  Olmutz.  only  longed  to  know  the  success  of  the  cause  of 
liberty,  which  was  kept  concealed  from  him  ;  and  whose  only 
thought  since  seems  to  be  whether  any  good  can  be  done  for  the 
cause  of  mankind. 

It  had  happened  some  years  before,  that  a  vessel  which  had 
"eft  England  for  La  Vendee,  having  on  board  nine  persons  be- 
longing to  some  of  the  oldest  families  of  France — Talmonts, 
Montmorencies,   and  Choiseuls,   had   been  wrecked  en  the  coast 


PROVISIONAL    CONSULS.  103 

of  Calais.  These  passengers  were  emigrants :  they  were  ar- 
rested,  and  from  that  time  had  been  dragged  from  prison  to  prison, 
from  tribunal  to  tribunal,  without  having  their  fate  decided. 
Their  arrival  in  France  was  not  a  voluntary  act ;  but  they  were 
seized  on  account  of  their  supposed  place  of  destination.  The) 
affirmed  indeed  that  they  were  on  their  way  to  India,  but  th*» 
vessel  and  its  stores  proved  that  they  were  going  to  La  Vendee 
Without  entering  into  that  point,  Napoleon  conceived  that  thf 
condition  of  these  unfortunate  people  rendered  them  inviolable, 
and  that  they  were  under  the  laws  of  hospitality.  He  had  in 
fact  already  decided  a  similar  question  in  the  year  1794,  whea 
as  general  of  artillery  he  was  engaged  in  fortifying  the  coasts  ol 
the  Mediterranean.  Some  members  of  the  Chabrillant  family t 
on  their  passage  from  Spain  to  Italy,  had  been  taken  by  a  corsaii 
and  brought  into  Toulon  ;  they  were  immediately  thrown  into 
prison,  and  the  populace,  believing  they  were  emigrants,  rose 
and  would  have  mas-acred  thorn.  Xapoleon  availing  himself  of 
his  popularity  and  of  his  influence  over  the  cannoneers  and  work. 
men  of  the  arsenal,  who  were  foremost  in  the  disturbance,  saved 
tin's  unhappy  family.  Dreading  however  another  insurrection 
"if  the  people,  he  concealed  them  in  empty  ammunition-waggons 
which  he  was  sending  to  the  Isles  of  Hyeres,  and  by  this  means 
they  escaped.  These  two  cases  appear  to  be  distinct  :  in  the 
latter  there  is  not  a  shadow  of  doubt,  and  one  ceases  to  wonder 
that  a  people  who  had  so  little  sense  of  reason  or  humanity  as  to 
treat  those  unhappy  persons  as  criminals,  should  have  shown 
themselves  so  little  worthy  of  liberty.  In  the  case  of  the  passen- 
gers going  to  La  Vendee,  there  is  a  doubt  whether  the  Govern- 
ment was  not  authorized  to  treat  thorn  like  any  other  declared 
enemies — as  if  they  had  been  English  troops,  for  instance,  thrown 
upon  the  coast — that  is,  to  detain  them  prisoners.  But  there  is  a 
scab1  of  morality  above  the  letter  of  the  law  :  Buonapar'e  was 
right  in  both  cases  ;  fir  whenever  there  is  but  an  excuse  and  an 
opening  for  an  act  of  magnanimity,  it  is  right  to  take  advantage 
of  it.  The  generosity  of  the  behavior  cannot  be  doubted,  how- 
ever the  correctness  of  the  reasoning  may  ;  and  noble  and  disin- 
terested sentiments  are  the  best  safeguard  of  justice  and  liberty, 
Sy  striking  at  the  root  of  all  that  is  mean  and  sordid. 


104  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 


Buonaparte  in  speaking  of  this  event  justly  contrasts  it  with 
the  conduct  of  the  British  Government  towards  Xapper  Tandy 
and  Blackwell,  who  after  having  been  shipwrecked  on  the  coast 
of  Norway,  were  seized  in  crossing  the  neutral  territory  of  Ham- 
burgh at  the  instigation  of  the  British  minister,  and  delivered  up 
to  execution  as  Irish  rebels.  The  British  envoy  compelled  the 
Senate  of  Hamburgh  to  make  this  unmanly  surrender  :  "  and  who 
would  believe  it,"  exclaims  Napoleon,  '•  all  Europe  rose  up  to 
second  the  command  !"  Who  would  not  believe  it  at  a  time  when 
all  Europe  was  drunk  with  the  rage  of  social  order,  and  deaf  to 
all  but  the  siren  sounds  of  legitimacy  ?  Xapper  Tandy  was  not 
at  Hamburgh  by  choice  but  necessity  ;  he  was  not  there  taking 
advantage  of  a  neutral  territory  to  hatch  plots  against  the  govern- 
ment or  to  take  away  the  life  of  the  king  of  England.  In  the 
last  case.  I  should  not  have  a  word  to  say  against  his  arrest, 
though  contrary  to  forms,  and  though  the  same  Europe  would 
have  rung  with  the  justice  of  his  seizure  and  the  aggravated 
enormity  of  his  guilt.  The  Senate  of  Hamburgh  had  yielded  on 
its  part  to  the  importunity  of  legitimate  Europe  before  the  13th 
of  Brumairc:  shortly  after  that  event,  they  sent  a  ling  letter  of 
apology  to  the  head  of  the  Government,  who  did  not  admit  of  the 
validity  of  their  excuses.  They  afterwards  sent  a  deputation  to 
the  Thuilleries  to  implore  oblivion,  and  to  urge  their  weakness  : 
"You  had  o  ic   resource  of  weak  states,"  said   Napoleon, 

"that  of  letting  your  prisoners  escape.'"' 

Hitherto  the  French  (I  ■■  tl  id  su]  rted  French  prison- 
ers in  England,  while  the  latter  country  supported  English  pris- 
oners in  France.  Tie  Consular  Government  succeeded  in  alter- 
ing this  arrangement  which  was  detrimental  to  France  ;  as  there 
were  more  From  :-  than  English,  and  as  provisions  w<  re 
dearer  in  England  lhan  in  France.  Eaeli  nation  became  from 
this  time  resp  >nsibb'  f   ■  th  ■  supp  >rt  of  the  pris  mors   it    <:   I 

The  oath  of  hatred  to  r  yalty  was  suppressed  as  useless  and 
contrary  to  the   maje.^ty  ■  fthe  Republic,  whii  Igi   ;  as 

it  was  on  all  sides,  stood  in  no  nred  of  such  support.      There  was 
a  Is  i  another  reas  in  :    that  it  wa*  a<  well  to  get  rid    if  tl 
hatred  to   royalty  befire  if  swore  allowance  to  a  new  monarch,  an 
event  which  there  is  every  gr  umd  to  suppose  Buonaparte  consid- 


PROVISIONAL   CONSULS.  105 

ered  as  at  this  period  very  possible.  It  was  also  resolved,  that 
the  anniversary  of  the  21st  of  January  should  no  longer  be  ob- 
served as  a  festival.  Of  this  subject  I  have  spoken  already,  nor 
do  I  see  occasion  to  change  what  I  have  said  :  on  the  contrary, 
Buonaparte's  anxiety  to  wash  out  the  memory  of  that  event  only 
made  it  more  necessary  that  he  should  be  reminded  of  it ;  for  in 
proportion  as  he  forgot  it,  the  more  he  forgot  himself  and  his  real 
and  only  durable  pretensions.  The  ostensible  object  of  the  Pro- 
visional Government  however  was  to  rally  and  unite  all  parties, 
and  to  efface  whatever  could  excite  irritation  or  animosity.  Offi- 
ces were  studiously  bestowed  on  men  of  all  parties  and  of  mode- 
rate opinions.  The  effect  of  this  proceeding  was  visible  and 
instantaneous  :  men  of  all  parties  were  disposed  to  rally  round 
the  standard  of  what  bid  so  fair  to  be  a  national  government:  he 
who  just  before  was  ready  to  throw  himself  into  the  arms  of  the 
emissaries  of  the  Bourbons  hesitated,  and  once  more  sided  with 
the  country.  The  foreign  faction  was  for  a  moment  disconcerted, 
but  soon  conceived  hopes  of  making  use  of  Napoleon  as  an  instru- 
ment to  bring  back  the  Bourbons;  for  bigotry  and  prejudice, 
unlike  reason  and  philosophy,  never  despair  ;  and  there  is  no 
chance,  however  absurd,  that  in  their  pertinacity  and  the  servile 
subjection  of  their  imagination  to  their  habitual  convictions,  they 
do  not  catch  at.  Buonaparte  had  an  interview  with  two  of  the 
chief  agents  of  this  party,  Hyde  dc  Neuville  and  Dandigne,  the 
one  a  young  man  of  talent,  the  other  a  wild  fanatic.  They  la- 
bored to  persuade  him  that  his  wisest  course  would  be  to  restore 
the  old  dynasty,  and  consolidate  his  own  power  by  the  help  of 
theirs:  he  strove  to  make  use  of  them  as  instruments  to  gain 
over  the  Vendean  chiefs.  Each  finding  the  other  inflexible,  they 
parted  without  any  wish  to  renew  the  intercourse. 

The  troubles  in  Toulouse,  in  the  South,  and  in  Belgium  were 
gradually  appeased,  as  the  principles  and  intentions  of  the  new 
government  developed  themselves.  Nevertheless,  tiie  \  endeans 
and  Chouans  still  disturbed  eighteen  departments  of  the  Republic 
Chatillon,  their  chief,  had  taken  Nantes;  and  they  replied  to  al 
the  proclamations  of  the  Directory  by  eounter-pioclamations, 
boluiy  asserting  their  resolution  to  restore  the  throne  and  the 
altar.     But  about  this  time   a  change  took   place    in  their  feel 

6* 


106  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


ings :  worn  out  with  endless  struggles,  alarmed  at  the  force 
which  Napoleon  sent  against  them,  but  still  more  dazzled  by 
his  reputation,  they  listened  to  terms  of  accommodation.  Sob 
diers  of  fortune  themselves,  daring  and  adventurous  leaders,  for 
the  first  time  there  was  a  sympathy  between  them  and  the  head  of 
die  government ;  and  their  dislike  of  the  cause  for  a  time  gave 
way  to  the  admiration  of  the  man.  Chatillon,  Suzannet,  D'Anti- 
Dhamp,  and  the  Abbe  Bernier,  the  leaders  of  the  insurrection  on 
the  left  of  the  Loire,  submitted  and  signed  a  treaty  with  General 
Iledouville  at  Montlueon,  on  the  17th  of  January.  1^00.  Bernier 
was  rector  of  St.  Lo,  and  exercised  great  influence  over  his  flock. 
He  came  to  Paris,  and  attached  himself  to  the  First  Consul,  by 
whom  he  was  employed  to  negotiate  the  Concordat,  and  was  after- 
wards made  Bishop  of  Orleans.  Georges  and  La  Prevelay  were 
at  the  head  of  the  bands  in  Brittany,  on  the  right  of  the  Loire  ; 
Bourmont  commanded  those  of  the  Maine,  Frotte  those  of  Nor- 
mandy. La  Prevelay  and  Bourmont  submitted,  and  came  to 
Paris.  Georges  and  Frotte  chose  to  keep  on  the  war.  It  gave 
them  an  opportunity  under  color  of  political  motives  to  indulge  in 
every  species  of  licentiousness  and  pillage  ;  to  lav  the  rich  under 
contribution  on  pretence  that  they  were  the  purchasers  of  national 
domains  ;  to  rob  tiie  public  coaches  because  they  carried  the  dis- 
patches of  the  state  ;  to  break  open  the  banking-houses,  because 
ihev  corresponded  with  the  Treasury.  They  kept  up  an  intelli- 
gence with  the  vilest  people  in  the  capital,  the  keepers  of  gaming- 
houses and  brothels,  where  they  brought  their  plunder,  and  there 
learnt  how  to  lav  their  snares  and  ambuscades  for  travellers  on  the 
road.  Generals  Chambarlhac  and  Gardanne  entered  the  depart- 
ment of  the  Orne  at  the  head  of  two  moveable  columns  to  secure 
Frotte.  This  young  chief,  who  was  active  and  full  of  stratagems, 
was  surprised  at  the  house  of  Guidal,  commandanl  at  Alonc.on, 
who  betrayed  him.  lie  was  tried  and  shot.  Georges  maintained 
If  in  Morbihan  with  the  assistance  of  the  money  and  arms 
winch  he  had  received  from  Fugland.  Attacked,  beaten,  and 
hemmed  in  at  Grand-Champ  by  General  Bruno,  he  capitulated, 
and  promised  to  live  a  good  and  peaceable  subject.  He  solicited 
permission  to  be  presented  to  Napoleon,  who  endeavored  to  make 
I  lie  same  impression  on   him   as    on   some1    other  Yen.dean    chiefs 


PROVISIONAL   CONSULS.  107 

but  in  vain.  The  war  in  the  West  being  thus  brought  to  a  con- 
clusion, many  good  regiments  were  disposable  for  foreign  service. 

The  Provisional  Government  interfered  but  little  with  continen- 
tal politics.  Some  uneasiness  had  been  excited  by  an  army 
which  Prussia  was  raising  at  the  time  of  the  Duke  of  York's 
landing  in  Holland.  Duroc,  Napoleon's  aide-de-camp,  was  dis- 
patched to  Berlin  with  a  letter  for  the  King.  He  had  every  rea- 
son to  be  satisfied  with  his  reception,  and  with  the  apparent  dis- 
position of  the  Cabinet.  The  Prussian  Court  was  filled  with  the 
military,  who  delighted  to  listen  to  the  accounts  of  the  wars 
in  Italy  and  Egypt  (the  truth  here  having  almost  the  air  of  a  ro- 
mance) and  who  were  also  gratified  that  the  soldiers  in  France 
had  taken  the  reins  of  the  Government  out  of  the  hands  of  the 
lawyers.  Paul  I.  also,  the  autocrat  of  all  the  Russias,  the  most 
arbitrary  and  self-willed  of  mortals,  had  always  entertained  a  great 
antipathy  to  the  Revolution  and  the  Republic;  but  piqued  by  the 
opposition  of  the  English  or  struck  with  some  touches  of  his  own 
humor  in  Napoleon,  he  suddenly  turned  round  and  conceived 
a  vast  admiration  and  predilection  for  the  character  of  the  First 
Consul.  Buonaparte  was  probably  allured  by  these  first  and  im- 
perfect successes  to  hope  for  the  establishment  of  a  thorough 
fellow-feeling  and  an  entire  amalgamation  of  policy  and  interests 
with  the  other  continental  Courts. 

While  the  state  of  public  affairs  thus  continued  to  improve,  the 
labor  of  remodelling  the  Constitution  drew  towards  an  end  :  the 
Consuls  and  the  two  Committees  were  incessantly  employed  on  it. 
According  to  law,  the  two  Councils  were  to  meet  on  the  19th  of 
February,  1800:  the  only  method  of  preventing  them  was  to  pro- 
mulgate the  new  constitution,  and  offer  it  to  the  acceptance  of  the 
people  before  that  epoch.  The  three  Consuls  and  the  two  inter, 
mediate  Committees  resolved  themselves  into  a  Committee  lor 
that  purpose  during  the  month  of  December  in  Napoleon's  apart- 
ment, from  nine  in  the  evening  till  three  in  the  morning.  lhiu- 
nou  acted  as  secretarv.  The  confidence  of  the  Assembly  ehieiiv 
rested  upon  the  reputation  and  experience  of  Sieves.  The  Con- 
stitution that  he  had  by  him  in  his  portfolio  had  been  much  ex- 
tolled. He  had  thrown  out  some  hints  concerning  it,  which  were 
eagerly  caught  up  by  his  numerous  admirers,  and  which  through 


108  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

them  found  their  way  to  the  public,  seeming  to  justify  the  eulo- 
gium  which  Mirabeau  passed  upon  him,  when  he  said,  "  the  si- 
lence  of  Sieyes  is  a  national  calamity."'  He  had  indeed  made 
himself  known  by  several  pamphlets  which  evinced  thought  and 
acuteness.  Me  it  was  also  who  originally  suggested  to  the  Third 
Estate  the  idea  of  declaring  itself  a  National  Assembly;  he  like- 
wise proposed  the  oath  of  the  Jeu  de  paumc,  not  to  separate  till 
they  had  drawn  up  a  Constitution  ;  and  France  was  indebted  to 
him  (as  has  been  already  observed)  for  its  division  into  Depart- 
ments, lie  professed  to  have  composed  a  theory  respecting  repre- 
sentative government  and  the  sovereignty  of  the  people,  full  of 
useful  ideas,  which  were  laid  down  as  fundamental  principles. 
The  Committee  expected  to  have  this  long-meditated  scheme  laid 
before  them,  and  that  they  should  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  de- 
liberate upon  and  ratify  it.  At  the  first  sitting,  however,  Sieves 
said  nothing  :  he  acknowledged  that  he  had  a  great  accumulation 
jf  materials  by  him,  but  they  were  neither  classed  nor  digested. 
At  the  following  sitting  he  read  a  report  on  lists  of  notables.  He 
afterwards  detailed  bit  by  bit.  and  letting  out  the  grand  secret  by 
degrees,  and  with  a  great  deal  of  pomp  and  preparation,  the  theory 
of  his  Constitutional  Jury,  and  at  last  came  to  the  Government. 
Mons  parturiens — mus  nascitur.  Flow  different  is  all  this  from 
the  simplicity  and  ardor  of  a  great  mind  in  the  enunciation  of  a 
great  discovery,  respecting  which  the  author,  entertaining  no 
doubt  himself,  makes  no  mystery  of  it  to  others,  and  seeing  it  all 
under  one  point  of  view  and  by  a  sort  of  intuition,  is  impatient 
or1'.'  lest  they  should  not  seize  it  with  the  same  force,  and  is  eager 
to  communicate  the.  whole  of  it  by  a  single  breath!  The  Abbe 
Sieves's  plans  were  not  of  this  condensed  or  convincing  descrip- 
ti"ii  :  they  were  neither  practical  nor  theoretical,  neither  deduc- 
tions from  abstract  reason,  nor  dictates  of  common  sense,  but  a 
strange  tissue  of  vague  assumptions  and  frivolous  excuses,  of 
general  doctrines  spun  to  the  most  attenuated  thread  or  suddenly 
snapped  asunder  at  the  author's  pleasure  or  convenience,  anil  then 
pieced  together  again  by  some  idle  verbiage  or  technical  nomen- 
clature. They  show  in  as  striking  a  degree  a-  almost  any  other 
abortions  of  the  kind  the  power  of  the  mind  to  make  plausible 
arrangements  of  word  ut  meaning,  and  to  satisfy  itself  with 


PROVISIONAL   CONSULS  109 

its  own  pedantic  trifling.  This  first  essay,  from  its  unsatisfactory 
issue,  and  from  the  great  reputation  of  the  man,  must  have  tended 
to  inspire  Buonaparte  with  a  very  different  opinion  of  the  consti- 
tution-mongers and  ideologists  of  France,  and  have  made  him 
indignant  at  having  his  will  and  power  thwarted  by  such  shadows 
and  mockeries  of  reasoning.  According  to  the  Abbe  Sieyes's 
alternate  plan  of  nominal  abstractions  and  voluntary  expedients  to 
suspend  them,  all  power,  all  sovereignty,  all  right  originated  from 
and  was  to  be  acknowledged  in  the  people  ;  but  although  it  ema- 
nated from  them,  it  was  not  to  reside  there  a  moment;  for  this 
title  of  their's  to  choose  their  own  government  having  been  recog- 
nized as  an  undoubted  and  indefeasible  right  (pro  forma)  it  was 
for  fear  of  any  abuse  or  inconvenience  that  might  result  from  it, 
without  rhyme  or  reason,  to  be  instantly  taken  from  them,  and 
made  over  to  a  number  of  persons  who  were  to  appoint  another 
set  who  were  to  choose  their  representatives  and  officers  of  gov- 
ernment for  them.  Now  all  this  seems  going  out  of  one's  way  to 
lav  down  a  plausible  theoretical  principle  merely  to  overturn  it  in 
practice,  or  to  perplex  the  common  practice  and  routine  of  society 
bv  an  idle  theoretical  principle.  If  the  choice  of  the  government 
or  of  the  legislature  by  this  intricate  and  artificial  process  is  ulti- 
mately to  be  very  different  from  what  the  majority  by  popular 
election  would  have  come  to  ;  why  tantalize  them  with  the  mock- 
ery of  choosing  their  own  governors  ?  If  it  is  substantially  the 
same,  why  not  allow  them  to  exercise  their  natural  and  inherent 
right  without  a  proxy,  and  without  a  refinement  in  policy  which 
is  either  an  impertinence  or  an  injustice  ?  If  the  people  are  to  be 
kept  in  leading-strings,  why  compliment  them  with  rights  which 
they  are  unfit  to  exercise,  and  why  not  give  to  their  betters  the 
real  management  of  the  state  both  in  appearance  and  reality  } 
\5v  this  lame,  contradictory  scheme  the  people  would  not  gain 
heir  real  friends  and  favorites  as  their  guardians  and  attorneys  in 
the  government  ;  while  the  government  would  be  deprived  of 
some  of  its  tried  and  ablest  servants,  who  might  not  happen  to  be 
included  in  the  lists  of  notability.  The  whole  is  a  system  of  eva- 
sion and  cross-purposes  :  or  it  is  giving  up  the  essence  and  vital 
principle  of  popular  government  under  a  pretence  of  adhering  to 
the  name    and    forms.      In  like   manner,    the    Legislative   Body, 

10 


1 10  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

when  they  met,  were  not  to  discuss  or  debate  upon  the  laws  they 
were  to  pass,  but  were  to  vote  and  determine  by  ballot  upen  them 
after  hearing  the  different  arguments  and  objections  brought  for- 
ward  by  a  hundred  Tribunes,  who  were  not  to  originate  the  laws 
themselves,  but  to  receive  them  from  a  Council  of  State  named  by 
the  government.  That  is  to  say,  those  who  were  to  decide  upon 
the  different  questions  and  ought  to  be  supposed  the  wisest  and  the 
best  judges,  were  not  to  give  their  reasons  at  all  or  to  influence  one 
another's  opinions,  hut  were  to  be  at  the  mercy  of  a  number  of 
noisy  and  professed  disputants,  who  were  to  discuss  in  their  hear- 
ing and  for  their  benefit  measures,  not  which  they  had  thought  of, 
and  which,  having  had  their  source  in  their  own  bosoms  and 
reflections,  they  might  be  conceived  to  understand,  hut  which 
were  proposed  to  them  by  the  government,  and  which  thev  were 
to  take  up  as  a  lawyer  does  his  brief;  so  that  in  fact  the  govern- 
ment, which  is  always  lo  iked  upon  with  suspicion  in  the  repre- 
sentative system,  would  have  the  initiative  in  all  laws  and  enact- 
ments, would  make  the  tribunate  in  a  manner  its  organ  :  and  the 
)egislative  or  deliberating  Council  of  the  nation  could  only  oppose 
lo  this  lively  and  formidable  battery  of  eloquence  and  power  the 
vis  inertia  of  gravity  and  silence. 

Again,  the  government  was  to  be  a  government  and  no  govern- 
ment. A  supreme  power  was  to  be  vested  in  the  hands  of  a 
Grand  Elector,  who  was  to  be  chosen  by  the  Senate,  not  accoun- 
table to  it,  and  yet  removable  by  it  at  pleasure  :  he  was  to  do 
nothing  himself,  but  to  choose  others  to  do  every  thing  for  him; 
he  was  to  have  a  consul  for  peace  and  a  consul  fir  war,  and  each 
v\  as  to  bo  perfi-ctlv  independent  of  him  and  of  the  other.  That 
is.  in  everv  department  of  tin.'  state  there  was  to  be  power,  but 
then  it  c  iuld  d  )  nothing  :  there  was  to  be  liberty,  but  then  the  ex- 
i  :i  ;-,.  of  it  was  vested  in  some  other  person  :  there  was  to  be  in- 
ch'pend*  nee.  but  an  impossibility  of  mutual  co-operation  and  con- 
cert. A  thing  wasiiM  s  <  i]i<-r  granted  than  it  was  clogged  with 
some  impracticable  condition  :  a  form  was  no  sooner  established 
than  all  power  of  life  and  motion  was  taken  from  it.  either  from 
f-ar  of  its  abuse,  or  in  the  sheer  spirit  of  contradiction.  Sieves 
came  last  to  the  last  point,  the  Executive  Government,  probably 
exnecting  there  to  see  an  end  of  his  shuffling  and  nugatory  svs- 


PROVISIONAL   CONSULS.  HI 

tern.  This  was  the  capital,  the  most  prominent  part  of  so  beauti. 
ful  a  piece  of  architecture,  which  he  approached  with  consider, 
able  tenderness,  but  laying  prodigious  stress  upon  it.  He  pro- 
posed  in  this  view  a  Grand  Elector  for  life,  to  be  chosen  by  the 
Conservative  Senate;  to  possess  a  revenue  of  six  millions  of 
livres,  with  a  guard  of  3000  men,  and  to  reside  in  the  palace  of 
Versailles;  foreign  ambassadors  were  to  be  accredited  to  him, 
and  he  was  to  furnish  credentials  to  the  French  ambassadors  and 
ministers  at  foreign  courts.  All  acts  of  government,  all  laws, 
and  all  judicial  proceedings  were  to  be  in  his  name.  He  was  to 
be  the  sole  representative  of  the  national  glory,  power,  and  dig- 
nity :  he  was  to  nominate  two  consuls,  one  for  peace,  and  the 
other  for  war;  but  to  these  points  his  influence  was  to  be  con- 
lined.  It  is  true  he  was  to  have  the  power  of  removing  the  con- 
suls and  of  replacing  them  by  others  ;  but  at  the  same  time  the 
Senate  was  to  be  entitled,  when  it  should  deem  such  an  exercise 
of  power  arbitrary  or  opposed  to  the  national  interest,  to  merge 
the  Grand  Elector.  The  effect  of  this  merger  was  to  be  equiv- 
alent to  a  removal  ;  the  post  became  vacant  ;  but  by  way  of  com- 
pensation, the  Grand  Elector  was  to  have  a  seat  in  the  Senate  for 
the  rest  of  his  life. 

Napoleon  had  said  but  little  in  the  preceding  sittings,  as  he  had 
no  experience  in  such  matters.  lie  could  only  refer  on  this  sub- 
ject to  Sieves,  who  had  participated  in  the  formation  of  the  Con- 
stitution of  1791,  J  7!J:',  and  1795;  to  Daunou,  who  was  ac- 
counted  one  of  the  principal  framcrs  of  the  latter;  and  to  about 
twenty  or  thirty  members  of  the  Committees,  who  had  all  dis- 
tinguished themselves  in  legislating,  and  who  took  the  greater 
interest  in  the  creation  of  those  bodies  which  were  to  make'  the 
laws,  inasmuch  as  they  were  to  be  themselves  component  parts  of 
them.  But  the  government  concerned  himself;  he  therefore  rose 
to  oppose  this  part  of  the  plan.  "The  Grand  Elector,"  lie  said, 
••  if  he  confine  himself  strictly  to  the  functions  you  assign  him, 
will  be  the  shadow,  but  the  mere  ileshless  shadow  of  a  lloi  faine- 
aiil.  And  how  do  you  think  it  possible  that  any  man,  either  of 
the  smallest  talent  or  honor,  would  submit  to  the  situation  of  a 
fatted  hog  in  a  stye  with  some  millions  a  year  at  his  disposal? 
If  he  should  choose  to  abuse  his  prerogative,  you  give  him  obso- 


1*9  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

lute  power.  If,  for  example,  I  became  Grand  Elector,  when  I 
appointed  the  consul  for  war  and  the  consul  for  peace,  I  would 
say  to  them,  If  you  nominate  a  single  minister,  if  you  sign  a 
single  act  without  my  previous  approbation,  I  will  remove  you 
But  you  reply,  the  Senate  in  its  turn  will  merge  the  Grand  Elec- 
tor. This  is  worst  of  all  ;  nobody  at  this  rate  has  any  guarantee. 
In  another  point  of  view,  what  will  be  the  situation  of  these  two 
prime  ministers  ?  One  will  have  the  ministers  of  justice,  of  the 
interior,  of  police,  of  finance,  and  of  the  treasury  under  his  con 
trol  ;  the  other  those  of  the  marine,  of  war,  of  external  relations. 
The  first  will  be  surrounded  only  by  judges,  administrators,  finan- 
ciers, men  of  the  long  robe  ;  the  other  only  by  epaulettes  and 
military  men — the  one  will  be  wanting  money  and  recruits  for 
his  armies,  the  other  will  not  furnish  any.  Such  a  government 
would  be  a  monstrous  chimera,  composed  of  heterogeneous  parts, 
and  presenting  nothing  rational.  It  is  a  great  mistake  to  suppose 
that  the  shadow  of  a  thing  can  be  of  the  same  use  as  the  thing 
itself."' 

Sieves  answered  these  objections  unsatisfactorily.  His  plan 
of  a  (J rand  Elector  (an  office  which  he  himself  had  probably 
some  design  of  filling)  fell  to  the  ground  ;  and  he  himself  was 
soon  after  merged  in  his  own  theories,  with  the  estate  of  Crosne 
voted  to  him  as  a  national  recompence  for  his  many  previous  ser- 
vices. Having  strengthened  the  Government  by  taking  it  into 
his  own  hands  as  Consul,  with  Cambacercs  and  Lebrun  for  his 
coadjutors,  Buonaparte  left  the  representative  part  of  the  system 
to  shift  for  itself,  and  this  was  made  up  of  the  wreck  of  Sieyes's 
Senate,  Tribunate,  and  Legislative  Body,  which,  however,  were 
chosen  by  the  Consuls  without  waiting  for  the  lists  of  notability  ; 
thus  verifying  Mr.  Burke's  sarcasm  on  the  Abbe's  Constitutions 
— ••  some  where  the  electors  choose  the  representatives,  and  others 
when!  the  representatives  choose  the  electors,"  &c.  The  Con- 
stitution of  the  year  Vllf.  was  published  and  submitted  to  the 
people  on  the  llUh  of  December,  and  sanctioned  by  three  millions 
eleven  thousand  and  seven  votes.  The  new  Government  was  es- 
tablished on  the  2Mb  of  the  same  month.  Buonaparte  thus 
trained  his  great  object,  which  was  to  give  unity  and  visor  to  the 
Government;   and  which,    whether   we   consider  the  demands  of 


PROVISIONAL   CONSULS.  113 

his  own  ambition  or  the  necessities  of  the  state,  was  perhaps  the 
principal  thing.  The  enemies  of  the  Revolution  had  prevented 
it  from  having  a  happy  and  tranquil  termination  ;  and  all  that  re- 
mained was  to  take  care  that  they  did  not  exult  in  their  iniquit)  , 
and  profit  by  their  own  wrong.  The  Consular  Government,  how 
ever  arbitrary  in  its  form,  or  in  many  of  its  decisions,  was  essen- 
tially popular  in  its  principles  and  objects ;  for  it  had  no  other 
strength  to  appeal  to  than  the  final  approbation  of  the  people  or 
of  a  large  part  of  it.  It  was  founded  in  no  prejudice  by  which  it 
could  brave  the  opinions  and  feelings  of  the  whole  community  ; 
and  it  must  be  some  time  before  the  head  of  the  Consular  or  Im- 
perial Government  could  take  upon  him  to  ruin  the  country  like 
a  Roi  faineant  or  as  a  state-privilege  ! 

During  the  month  of  December  Buonaparte's  health  was  much 
shaken.  These  nightly  sittings  and  long  discussions,  in  which  he 
was  forced  to  listen  to  so  much  nonsense,  wasted  time  that  was 
precious  to  him,  yet  were  nevertheless  in  a  certain  degree  inter- 
esting to  him.  He  remarked  that  many  men  who  wrote  well  and 
were  not  without  eloquence,  were  yet  entirely  devoid  of  solidity 
of  judgment,  and  argued  most  miserably.  He  inferred  from 
hence  that  there  are  persons  who  are  gifted  by  nature  with  the 
faculty  of  writing  and  expressing  their  thoughts  well,  as  others 
are  with  a  genius  for  music,  painting,  or  sculpture.  Public  af- 
fairs, on  the  contrary,  require  deep  thought,  correct  discrimina- 
tion, and  a  power  of  forming  conclusions  answering  to  the  re- 
sults of  things  in  reality.  Cambaceres,  who  was  chosen  Second 
Consul,  was  of  a  noble  family  in  Languedoc,  and  an  able  law- 
yer:  Lebrun,  the  Third  Consul,  was  from  Normandy,  had  for- 
merly been  employed  by  the  Chancellor  Maupeou  in  drawing  up 
his  decrees,  was  distinguished  for  the  purity  and  elegance  of  his 
style,  and  sincerely  attached  to  the  Revolution  ;  to  which  he  him- 
self owed  all  his  advantages,  his  family  being  originally  of  the 
class  of  peasants. 

10* 


114  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


CHAPTER    XXIV 


THE    CONSULATE. 


The  Consuls  on  leaving  St.  Cloud,  November  10th,  1799,  had 
taken  up  their  residence  at  the  Luxembourg,  in  the  same  apart- 
ments which  had  been  lately  occupied  by  the  Directory.  But 
the  new  Constitution  bad  raised  the  Consular  power  above  tiie 
other  authorities  of  the  state,  and  it  felt  itself  not  sufficiently  at 
case  there  to  represent  the  majesty  of  the  French  people.  The 
Government,  on  the  19th  of  February,  1300,  after  the  adoption 
of  the  Constitution  of  the  year  VIII..  proceeded  to  instal  itself  at 
the  palace  of  the  Thuilleries  ;  and  the  First  Consul  from  that 
time  took  up  his  abode  there. 

The  procession  left  the  Luxembourg  in  carriages,  in  full  cos- 
tume, witli  music  and  a  guard.  It  was  not  a  brilliant  display  ; 
there  were  onlv  a  l'>-w  private  carriages,  the  rest  were  hackney- 
coaches,  having  the  numbers  on  them  covered  over  with  paper. 
.No  sooner  had  the  First  Consul  arrived  at  the  Thuilleries,  than 
he  mounted  on  horseback  and  gave  a  review.  Afterwards  each 
of  the  ministers  presented  to  him  the  different  persons  emploved 
in  his  department  of  the  state.  Thus  then  we  behold  the  First 
Magistrate  of  the  Republic  installed  in  the  palace  where  every 
thin<£  still  breathed  the  recollection  of  its  ancient  Kings.  It  was 
iust  at  this  moini  nt  that  the  news  of  the  death  of  Washington 
was  received.  lb'  had  died  on  the  14th  of  the  preceding  De- 
■emhor,  at  the  aye  of  sixtv-ei^ht  years,  at  a  private  countrv-house 
in  Virginia,  having  -•  i  ir  ;  the  in  topendonco  of  his  country  as  a 
general,  its  liberty  as  a  legislator,  and  its  prosperity  as  a  mairis- 
Irate.  What,  it  may  he  asked,  hindered  Buonaparte  from  imi- 
;atin<j  his  example  ?  Had  the  Allied  troops  been  removed  throe 
thousand  miles  off  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  had  the 
French   been  a  colony  of  English   settler-,   and  in  France  there 


THE   CONSULATE  115 


had  been  no  palace  of  her  ancient  kings,  there  was  nothing  to 
prevent  it. 

The  First  Consul  did  not  neglect  this  opportunity  of  showing 
his  respect  to  the  character  of  the  hero  of  American  liberty  ;  his 
death  was  announced  to  the  Consular  Guard  and  to  all  the  troops 
of  the  Republic,  in  the  following  order  of  the  day  : — "  Washing- 
ton is  dead.  This  great  man  fought  against  tyranny ;  he  estab- 
lished the  liberty  of  his  country.  His  memory  must  always  be 
dear  to  the  French  people,  as  well  as  to  all  the  free  of  both  worlds, 
and  especially  to  the  French  soldiers,  who  like  him  and  his 
American  troops  fight  in  defence  of  liberty  and  equality.  In 
consequence,  the  First  Consul  has  ordered,  that  for  the  space  of 
ten  days  black  crape  shall  be  hung  on  all  the  colors  and  standards 
of  the  Republic." 

The  first  presentation  of  the  diplomatic  body  took  place  on  the  2d 
of  March.  Benezech,  counsellor  of  state,  who  was  charged  with  the 
interior  regulation  of  the  palace,  introduced  the  foreign  ministers 
into  the  apartment  of  the  Consuls,  where  were  the  several  ministers, 
the  counsellors  of  state,  the  secretary  of  state,  and  the  secretary  of 
the  Consuls.  The  Minister  of  the  Interior  received  them  at  the  en- 
trance of  the  apartment  ;  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  presented 
them  to  the  First  Consul.  The  diplomatic  body  at  that  time  con- 
sisted of  the  ambassadors  of  Spain  and  of  Rome,  the  ministers  of 
Prussia,  of  Denmark,  of  Sweden,  of  Baden  and  Ilesse-Cassel,  and 
of  the  ambassadors  from  the  Cisalpine.  Batavian,  Helvetian,  and 
Ligurian  Republics.  People  had  then  so  high  an  idea  of  the  dig- 
nity of  civil  employments,  and  they  still  regarded  the  service  of 
the  court  as  so  little  honorable,  that  the  counsellors  of  state  were 
somewhat  scandalized  to  see  the  veteran  Minister  of  the  Interior, 
one  of  their  colleagues,  with  the  usher's  rod  in  his  hand,  acting 
the  part  of  master  of  the  ceremonies,  and  even  of  maitre-d' hotel 
to  the  First  Consul.  Benezech  was  supple  and  obliging,  but  a 
thoroughly  good  and  honest  man,  and  much  more  adapted  to  busi- 
ness than  the  attendance  of  the  ante-chamber.  There  were  as 
yet  no  tilled  officers  called  chamberlains  ;  the  aides-decamp  of 
the  First  Consul  performed  the  duty  ;  but  that  savored  too  strongly 
of  the  General  to  be  of  long  duration.  The  ministers  and  the 
council  of  state  surrounded  the  Consuls  on  public  occasions  :  they 


'16  LIFE    OF   XAPOLEON. 

formed  the  whole  Government  united.  But  it  seemed  clear  to 
penetrating  observers  that  the  Thuilleries  would  soon  have  a  reg- 
ular court  and  established  etiquette,  as  a  temple  is  nothing  with- 
out altars  and  a  priesthood. 

Tin'  order  ot  the  receptions  was  regulated  as  follows  :  On  the 
2d  and  17th  of  eacdi  month,  the  ambassadors  ;  on  the  3d  day  ol 
the  decade,  the  senators  and  generals  ;  on  the  4th,  the  members 
of  the  Legislative  Body  :  on  the  6th,  the  tribunes  and  the  tribu- 
nal of  cassation  were  admitted.  Every  fifth  dav  (of  the  decade) 
at  noon  there  was  a  grand  parade.  It  was  a  thing  quite  new  to 
the  greater  part  both  of  the  actors  and  spectators,  this  commence- 
ment of  a  court.  Each  of  the  Directors  had  had  his  own  circle 
of  society,  in  which  the  simple  and  unaffected  tone  of  common 
life  prevailed  :  they  were  not  much  frequented.  Barras  alone 
had  kept  up  a  sort  of  public  drawing-room  ;  but  only  a  fifth  part 
of  the  power  or  consequence  belonged  to  him.  while  the  First 
Consul  had  the  whole  to  himself,  lie  was  severe  in  the  choice 
of  the  society  of  Madame  Buonaparte  :  it  was  composed,  since 
the  ISth  of  Brumaire,  of  the  wives  of  the  different  public  func- 
tionaries, civil  and  military;  and  they  formed  the  first  nucleus  of 
the  e  'Lirt.  For  them  as  well  as  for  their  husbands  the  transition 
had  been  a  little  abrupt.  The  graceful  ease  and  goodness  of  dis- 
;  -It i  n  of  Madame  Buonaparte  reconciled  those  who  were  start- 
led at  the  imposing  etiquette  of  the  palace,  and  above  all,  by  the 
rank  and  glory  of  the  First  Consul.  The  court  was  then  what  it 
ought  to  b  .  not  numer  us  but  d  it.  The  title  of  Madame  was 
generally  given  to  women  at  the  First  Consul's  drawing-rooms 
and  in  the  cards  of  invitation  which  were  issued — a  return  to 
ancient  custom  which  shortly  spread  through  the  rest  o(  the  com- 
munity. 

The  f':r-:  Consul  being  once  established  at  the  Thuilleries.  it 
was  but  natural  that  he  should  have  a  palace  in  the  country 
corresponding  to  the  one  he  had  in  the  capital.  It  was  th  night 
that  MahnaUon,  the  in  de>i  retreat  >  f  General  Buonaparte,  could 
no  longer  suit  the  chief  fa  great  Republic.  Among  the  ai 
r  val  residences  in  the  vicinity  of  the  metropolis.  St.  Cloud  was 
most  conveniently  situated.  'I  he  inhabitants  of  the  place  pre- 
sented an  address  to  the  Tribune  to  offer  the  choice  of  the  chateau 


THE   CONSULATE.  m 


to  the  First  Consul.  He  on  this  occasion  declared  to  the  commis- 
sion appointed  to  make  the  proposal,  *  that  he  would  accept  of 
nothing  from  the  people  during  the  term  of  his  magistracy,  nor 
for  a  year  after  its  functions  had  ceased  ;  and  that  if  at  a  later 
period  they  should  think  iit  to  apply  to  him  the  article  of  the 
Constitution  which  decreed  rewards  to  the  warriors  who  had  rem 
dered  signal  services  to  the  Republic,  then  he  would  accept  with 
gratitude  the  offerings  of  the  people  ;  and  that  his  intention  was 
in  the  mean  time  to  propose  it  to  the  Legislative  Body  to  award 
recompences  to  the  warriors  who  had  distinguished  themselves  by 
their  high  deeds  and  their  disinterestedness,  as  the  surest  way 
to  stifle  all  the  seeds  of  corruption  and  to  reform  the  public 
morals.'"'  The  petition  was  therefore  simply  referred  to  the  Gov- 
ernment. 

The  costumes  and  the  insignia  of  authority  underwent  an  alter- 
ation. The  Greek  and  Roman  dresses  disappeared,  and  were 
replaced  by  military  fashions.  The  First  Consul  had  more  the 
appearance  of  a  general  than  of  a  statesman  ;  but  along  with  the 
boots  and  sword  he  wore  a  coat  of  the  French  make,  and  it  was 
clearly  to  be  seen  that  every  thing  tended  to  the  civil  side.  At 
the  head  of  the  acts  of  Government  a  vignette  had  hitherto  repre- 
sented the  Republic  in  the  form  of  a  woman  seated,  dressed  after 
the  antique,  holding  a  helm  in  one  hand,  and  in  the  other  a  gar- 
land, with  the  inscription:  French  Republic,  Sovereignty  of  the 
People,  Liberty,  Equality,  Buonaparte  Fir-it  Consul,  instead  of 
which  these  words  were  substituted  :  In  the  name  of  the  French 
People,  the  French  Government.  The  Sovereignty  of  the  People, 
Liberty,  and  Equality  were  no  longer  retained. 

Tiie  first  act  of  Buonaparte  on  arriving  at  the  Thuilleries  had 
been  a  review  ;  the  court  of  the  Palace  became  the  place  of  ren- 
dezvous for  the  troops.  They  were  not  idle  parades.  Now  on 
foot,  now  on  horseback  the  First  Consul  traversed  all  the  ranks, 
m  order  to  become  acquainted  with  the  officers  and  men.  and  to 
make  himself  known  to  them.  lie  entered  into  the  most  minute 
details  respecting  the  equipment,  the  arming,  the  exercising,  in  a 
word,  respecting  all  the  wants  of  the  men  and  those  of  the  service. 
As  General  and  Chief  .Magistrate,  he  dispensed,  in  the  name  of 
Jie  nation,  praise  an  J  blame,  distinctions  and   rewards.     IJe  tnus 


118  LIFE   OF   rsWFOLEON. 


made  the  army  pass  constantly  under  the  observation  of  the  people 
of  the  capital,  and  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  departments  and  strang- 
ers who  happened  to  be  at  Paris.  This  sight  excited  a  strong 
spirit  of  emulation  among  the  soldiers  of  the  different  corps,  and 
enhanced  their  dignity  and  their  value  in  their  own  eyes.  In  thest, 
imposing  displays  the  nation  took  a  pride  in  its  troops;  strangers 
learned  to  know  and  fear  them  ;  all  the  world  were  struck  with 
admiration  of  them.  The  First  Consul  was  here  seen  to  great 
advantage  and  in  his  proper  element.  lie  took  a  real  pleasure 
in  remaining  for  hours  in  the  midst  of  all  this  military  pomp, 
round  which  an  immense  multitude  crowded  and  made  their  ac- 
clamations resound,  while  his  ante -chambers  and  saloons  were 
thronged  witli  courtiers  and  with  distinguished  public  characters, 
who  waited  patiently  for  the  favor  of  a  word,  a  smile,  or  even  a 
look.  These  reviews  afforded  the  First  Consul  a  brilliant  oppor- 
tunity to  display  before  the  eyes  of  the  people  and  the  army  his  in- 
defatigable activity,  his  superiority  in  all  that  related  to  the  mili- 
tary art,  the  source,  the  very  essence  of  his  glory,  and  to  exercise 
over  all  bosoms  the  irresistible  ascendant  of  power,  of  energy,  of 
genius  and  fortune  united  in  a  single  individual.  Was  the  day 
rainy  or  the  sky  covered  with  clouds?  Often,  as  soon  as  the 
First  Consul  appeared,  the  rain  ceased,  the  clouds  were  dispersed, 
the  sun  shone  out :  the  multitude,  always  eager  for  the  marvel- 
lous, and  the  courtiers,  prodigal  of  flattery,  cried  out  that  he  com- 
manded even  the  elements,  or  was  peculiarly  favored  of  heaven. 
l\\  less  than  a  year  a  striking  change  had  taken  place.  Before 
the  18th  of  Brumairo,  every  thing  had  seemed  to  announce  a 
speedy  dissolution  ;  at  present,  every  thing  bore  the  stamp  of  pub- 
lic spirit  and  vigor.  (  hi  all  sides  was  discernible  a  lofty  emulation 
i'i  whatever  was  good,  admirable,  and  great.  There  was  a  real 
desire  to  establish  the  new  order  of  things;  as  at  the  commence- 
)n<  ut  of  the  Revolution  there  had  been  to  overturn  the  old  one. 
An  approach  to  the  object  in  view  was  no  longer  made  by  tu- 
mult ami  disorder;  a  steady  hand  guided  the  movement,  traced 
the  route,  and  prevented  deviations.  When  Buonaparte  became 
Consul  for  life,  the  Court  was  put,  like  his  power,  upon  a  regal 
footing.  This  was  not,  however,  the  affair  of  a  moment.  They 
comuiled  new  codes  of  etiquette,  and   consulted  the  old  courtiers 


THE   CONSULATE.  119 


and  antiquated  valets  as  to  any  trifling  particular ;  "  How  ought 
that  to  be  1  how  was  that  managed  formerly  ?"  were  the  ques- 
tions always  asked  in  the  interior  of  the  palace,  and  a  reference 
was  constantly  made  to  the  use  and  practice  of  the  good  old  times. 
An  anecdote  is  told  as  characteristic  o^  the  tone  that  prevailed  at 
this  period,  that  on  some  occasion  the  Count  of  Narbonne  having 
to  present  a  letter  to  Buonaparte,  instead  of  taking  it  in  his  hand, 
placed  it  on  his  hat  and  advanced  with  it  obsequiously  in  that  po- 
sition. Buonaparte  at  first  suspected  some  insult,  and  asked  the 
meaning  of  this  piece  of  effeminacy  ;  but  being  told  that  •' it  was 
always  the  way  in  which  the  Count  presented  a  letter  to  Louis 
XVI.,"  he  afterwards  always  cited  the  Count  of  Narbonne  as  the 
model  of  courtesy  and  politeness.  There  is  nothing  incredible  in 
this  story  ;  for  the  greatest  strength  is  not  incompatible  with  the 
greatest  weakness  in  the  same  person.  Those  who  wished  for  the 
restoration  of  the  old  system,  which  was  only  a  very  small  num- 
ber, or  those  who  were  taken  with  show  and  outward  appearance, 
which  is  always  the  greater  part  of  mankind,  were  delighted  with 
this  return  to  frivolity  and  with  the  importance  attached  to  trifles. 
The  change  was  not  elfected  without  a  sense  of  ridicule  and  awk- 
wardness at  first.  Those  who  had  been  accustomed  to  the  forms, 
the  manners,  the  conventional  phraseology  and  studied  politeness 
of  the  old  court,  were  greatly  amused  with  the  attempts  of  the 
new  one  to  mimic  them.  It  was  not  long,  however,  before  this 
defect  was  remedied  by  practice,  and  the  Court  of  the  First  Consul 
might  pretend  in  all  respects  to  vie  witli  the  most  brilliant  periods 
of  the  monarchy.  Here  was  found  united  whatever  was  most 
distinguished  in  the  different  classes  of  society,  in  the  arts,  in  the 
sciences,  in  commerce,  and  in  the  liberal  professions.  There  too 
were  to  be  met  with  a  crowd  of  warriors,  resplendent  in  fields  of 
renown,  the  firm  and  invincible  defenders  of  tiie  Republic,  and 
some  of  the  most  sounding  names  of  the  old  nobility,  who  had 
veiled  to  tin'  glory  with  which  others  had  covered  it.  Youth, 
grace,  beauty  lent  their  charm;  and  if  virtue  did  nut  follow  in 
tiie  train,  at  least  there  was  a  greater  attention  shown  to  decorum 
and  propriety  of  manners  than  had  ever  been  paid  to  them  under 
tin-  ancient  regime.  One  secret  grief  and  latent  cause  of  un- 
popularity and  complaint   against  Buonaparte,  was  his  detcrmma. 


LIFE   OF   2s"APOLEOX. 


tion  to  suppress  the  licentiousness  of  manners  that  prevailed  both 
before  and  after  the  Revolution.  He  was  severe,  and  even  rude 
to  women  who  endeavored  to  attract  notice  by  freedom  of  dres3 
or  behavior.  It  was  expected  that  men  and  their  wives  should 
appear  in  society  together — a  thing  unprecedented,  and  contrary 
to  all  ideas  of  boa  ton  in  the  good  old  times  of  religion  and  loyalty. 
It  is  true,  the  Court  had  formerly  taken  the  lead  in  vice  and  pro- 
fligacy of  every  kind  ;  and  the  example  which  it  had  set  bad,  as 
usual,  been  greedily  followed  by  the  other  classes  of  society. 
Buonaparte  thought,  by  adopting  and  countenancing  a  different 
system,  to  stem  the  tide  and  to  bring  back  a  greater  severity  and 
sobriety  of  manners.  But  perhaps  there  was  too  much  a  tone  of 
authority  and  arbitrary  will  in  his  manner  of  doing  it.  Vice  is 
a  plant  that  either  grows  wild  or  is  easily  reared  in  the  hot-bed  of 
fashion  ;  virtue,  which  is  of  slower  and  more  difficult  growth, 
can  only  be  engrafted  on  principle  and  conviction.  Yet  notwith- 
standing this  rigid,  marble  exterior,  and  public  homage  to  virtue, 
Buonaparte  was  constantly  assailed  by  showers  of  lampoons,  of 
which  the  writers  and  readers  gratified  in  the  most  wanton  man- 
ner either  their  political  hatred  or  the  pruriency  of  a  depraved 
imagination.  It  was  in  allusion  to  one  of  these  that  Buonaparte 
said  in  the  Council  of  State,  where  it  had  been  canvassed  as  a 
subject  for  legal  prosecution,  "  It  contains  nothing  but  absurdi- 
ties. It  appears  by  what  is  said  of  me,  that  the  author  does  even 
know  mv  physical  constitution  :  he  here  supposes  scenes  of  gal- 
lantry and  intrigue,  similar  to  those  in  the  time  of  Louis  XV.  I 
am  to  be  sun.'  very  much  like  those  people  :  is  it  not  so  I  I  am 
also  made  to  spend  enormous  sums  in  my  excursions  to  Malmai- 
son  :  every  bodv  knows  how  1  throw  money  out  of  the  windows. 
A  violent  scene  is  described  between  me  and  Barbe-Marbois  (the 
treasurer,)  from  whom  I  had  demanded  fifteen  millions  for  mv 
j'jurnev  to  Lvons,  which  he  refused  to  give  me,  whereas  it  really 
cost  me  onlv  lil'iv  thousand  francs.'"  The  author  of  this  libel,  a 
man  of  the  name  of  Fouilloux,  was  arrested,  and  the  list  of  his 
ibi'rs  and  patrons  was  seized,  among  whom  were  the  Citi- 
zen Serbelloni,  Ambassador  from  the  Italian  Republic,  the  Mar- 
quis Luchcsini,  Ambassador  from  Prussia,  Count  Marcoff,  the 
Russian  Ambassador,  and  others,  who,  having  invented  and  paid 


THE   CONSULATE.  121 


for  these  stories,  probably  believed  them  themselves,  when  they 
thought  the  world  would  receive  them  for  undoubted  truths.  A 
crowd  of  foreigners,  who  were  then  at  Pans,  spread  these  sort  of 
reports  everywhere,  and  the  English  and  German  newspapers 
were  thus  supplied  with  an  inexhaustible  fund  of  calumny  and 
abuse. 

It  was  the  Marquis  Luchesini,  mentioned  above,  who  was  sen,, 
as  Ambassador  from  Prussia  in  1602  and  on  that  occasion  ha- 
rangued the  First  Consul  in  Italian,  which  was  thought  a  very 
mat '-adroit  piece  of  flattery  for  so  consummate  a  courtier.  Ho 
had  been  sent  previously  by  the  King  his  master,  in  the  month 
of  October  1800,  to  compliment  Buonaparte  on  the  establishment 
of  the  Consular  Government.  When  Monsieur  de  Luchesini  ar- 
rived, the  First  Consul  was  at  Malmaison,  and  from  a  balcony  sur- 
veyed with  attention  the  rich  liveries  of  the  lacqueys,  and  appeared 
struck  with  the  brilliancy  of  the  orders  with  which  the  envoy  was 
decorated.  This  was  remarked  by  those  about  him,  and  he  was 
heard  to  say,  "  That  has  an  imposing  effect ;  such  things  are 
necessary  for  the  people."  That  might  be  true  ;  but  in  the  pres- 
ent case,  the  head  of  the  people,  who  envied  such  finery,  was 
more  the  dupe  of  it  and  more  a  child  than  they. 

The  majority  yielded  to  the  stream  ;  there  were  notwithstand- 
ing a  few  who  opposed  it,  or  inwardly  repined  to  see  the  flower 
of  the  talents  and  spirit  of  the  nation  fashioned  to  a  new  servi- 
tude of  idle  forms  and  ceremonies,  and  the  old  and  ridiculous 
Court  etiquette  resumed  with  more  alacrity  than  it  had  been  laid 
aside.  When  this  small  band  of  true  and  sterling  patriots  and 
friends  of  mankind  (there  might  also  be  a  mixture  of  spleen  and 
jealousy  in  their  motives)  compared  the  First  Consul  of  the  vear 
XI.  with  the  First  Consul  of  the  year  VIII.,  with  the  General  of 
the  Army  of  Egypt,  with  Buonaparte,  the  scourge  of  royalty  at 
Toulon,  on  the  13th  of  Vendeiniaire.  on  the  18th  of  Fructidor, 
with  the  same  Buonaparte,  rousing  the  people  of  Italy  from  their 
long  slavery  by  the  sound  of  his  victories  and  with  the  accents 
of  liberty,  and  planting  other  Republics  by  the  side  and  in  aid  of 
tint  of  France,  they  could  not  help  crying  out  with  some  bitter- 
ness :  "  Behold  then  tiie  end  of  so  many  fine  discnurses,  of  so 
many   lofty  sentiments,   of  so  many  glorious   exploits!     Was  it 

vol.  n.  7  11 


122  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


then  for  this,  only  to  retrace  its  steps,  that  the  nation  launched 
into  a  new  career,  which  it  bathed  with  its  purest  blood  ?  What 
has  become  of  so  many  promises,  oaths,  vows,  and  hopes  ?  Are 
we  then,  after  all,  no  better  than  revolted  slaves,  who  are  doomed 
to  forge  again  with  their  own  hands  the  chains  which  they  had 
broken  ?" — Well  was  it  when  liberty  had  a  voice  like  the  turtle, 
and  could  afford  to  regret  the  past,  and  compare  its  sanguine 
hopes  with  their  painful  disappointment  ;  when  all  had  not  been 
lost,  even  the  right  to  complain  ;  when  the  performance  might  be 
confronted  with  the  principle,  for  the  principle  was  not  rooted 
from  the  earth  ;  when  the  excesses  of  liberty,  when  the  abuse  of 
the  power  it  had  called  forth  were  the  burthen  of  the  song,  not 
Its  utter  extinction,  defeat,  and  ignominy  ;  when,  if  freedom  was 
lost  for  a  time,  its  strength  and  sinews  were  left,  independence, 
glory,  revenge,  scorn,  and  defiance  heaped  on  its  foes,  and  when 
itself  had  not  become  a  reproach  and  a  scoff  among  the  nations  ! 
What  would  they  have  said  (not  the  flies  who  flutter  about  every 
new  glare  or  are  scattered  by  every  blast,  but  men  of  principle 
and  firmness  to  look  back  to  the  past  and  forward  to  the  future) 
could  they  have  then  foreseen  the  final  issue  of  all  their  hopes? 
They  could  have  said  nothing,  for  men  complain  only  of  reme- 
diable griefs,  and  are  silent  when  the  right  to  every  good,  to  think, 
to  feel,  to  be,  is  wrested  from  them  ! 

The  First  Consul  found  his  residence  at  the  Thuilleries  dull, 
and  at  the  same  time  without  convenience  or  liberty.  lie  passed 
the  fine  weather  at  Malmaison.  Gr<  at  in  himself,  in  this  unpre- 
tending retreat  he  appeared  still  greater.  There,  and  long  after, 
at  St.  Cloud,  of  which  he  took"  possession  of  his  own  accord,  a 
year  after  he  had  capriciously  refused  it  as  a  free  gilt  from  the 
people,  his  conversation  formed  the  delight  of  those  who  knew 
him.  The  evenings  passed  there  were  evenings  worthy  of  the 
Clods.  The  scene  resembled  the  famed  Gardens  of  Alcinous  or 
some  of  the  enchantments  of  Ariosto's  pen.  and  is  still  remem- 
bered by  those  who  were  admitted  to  it.  as  a  dream,  a  gorgeous 
shadow  that  has  passed  from  the  earth.  Buonaparte  took  the  lead 
in  conversation,  and  it  will  appear  in  the  course  of  this  work  that 
he  had  a  right  to  do  so.  The  man  laid  aside  the  ruler,  and  losi 
nothing  by  it.      There   was  that  striking  union  of  personal  desert 


THE   CONSULATE.  123 


and  exalted  station  which  is  so  rarely  to  be  met  with  ;  and  is  as 
enviable  as  it  is  rare.  The  subjects  touched  upon  were  of  the 
most  imposing  kind  ;  and  what  a  tone  they  must  have  received 
from  the  speakers  !  Buonaparte  had  lost  by  degrees  all  the  taci- 
turnity  and  reserve  of  his  vouth  ;  his  manner  had  become  frank, 
communicative,  unreserved  and  free  in  the  highest  degree.  When 
he  had  a  part  to  act  in  public,  he  did  so  ;  but  in  private,  he  de- 
lighted to  throw  oil  all  disguise  and  pretension,  and  was  perfectly 
natural  and  simple.  His  discourse,  though  generally  serious  and 
earnest,  had  a  great  attraction,  for  it  was  original,  profound,  char- 
acteristic, and  full.  It  was  never  obscure,  feeble,  or  vague, 
though  often  carried  to  excess  ;  but  then  it  was  from  the  strength 
of  will  and  conscious  power  of  the  speaker.  The  greatest  inter- 
est was  excited  wherever  lie  came.  The  audience  listened  to  and 
caught  up  witli  avidity  his  slightest  words  ;  and  no  wonder,  when 
they  had  an  echo  through  Europe  and  were  almost  a  law  to  the 
world.  Though  not  stiff  or  pedantic,  he  gave  a  preference  to  the 
society  of  men  of  science,  both  from  the  importance  of  their  pur- 
suits, and  as  they  afforded  a  relief  to  political  topics  and  feelings. 
On  this  account  Laplace,  Monge,  Berthollet,  Lacepede,  Chaptal, 
were  often  admitted  to  long  conversations  witli  him,  nor  did  a  dis- 
tinction so  well  merited  excite  any  jealousy.  Sometimes  he  re- 
laxed so  far  as  to  join  in  the  country-dances  in  the  little  balls 
which  were  given  on  Sundays  at  Alalmaison.  lie  acquitted  him 
self  but  indifferently,  embroiled  the  figure,  and  always  called  lor 
the  Monaco,  as  the  easiest,  and  the  one  which  he  danced  the  least 
badly. 

The  Chief  Consul  showed  most  grace  and  personal  dignitv  in 
exercising  the  troops.  He  looked  well  in  uniform,  and  was  per- 
fectly at  home  on  these  occasions ;  still  in  giving  his  common 
audiences,  there  was  something  imposing  about  him.  He  under- 
stood the  art  of  making  a  man  six  feet  high,  who  was  Aot  other 
wise  disposed  to  do  so,  stoop  to  him,  or  could  assume  a  lottv  port 
which  left  the  tallest  persons  no  advantage  over  him.  Duroc 
had  given  notice  that  in  future  the  Thuilleries  would  be  open  onlv 
on  the  loth  of  every  month,  and  the  First  Consul  would  give 
audience  at  St.  Cloud  every  Sunday  after  hearing  mass.  These 
audiences  were  very  numerous,  and  lasted  several  hours.      Thev 


124  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

were  composed  of  cardinals,  bishops,  senators,  counsellors  of 
state,  deputies,  tribunes,  generals,  ambassadors,  magistrates,  pri- 
vate gentlemen  and  distinguished  foreigners,  royalists  and  repub- 
licans, nobles  and  plebeians,  whatever  there  was  most  conspicu- 
ous either  among  the  French  or  other  nations,  all  confounded  to- 
gether and  on  a  looting  of  equality.  The  First  Consul  addressed 
almost  every  one.  Some  times  occasion  was  taken  to  introduce 
private  affairs  ;  those  showed  most  wisdom  who  confined  them- 
selves to  merely  paying  their  court. 

From  the  audiences  of  the  First  Consul,  it  was  the  custom  to 
go  to  that  of  Madame  Buonaparte.  She  had  the  foreign  ladies  of 
distinction  presented  to  her.  Already  the  names  of  Zamoiska, 
Potowski,  Castel-Forte,  Dorset,  Gordon,  Newcastle,  Cholmondeley, 
Dolgorouki,  Galitzin  were  seen  on  the  list ;  for  persons  of  the 
highest  rank  in  Europe  ^vere  proud  to  do  homage  to  the  First 
Consul  and  his  wife.  Three  days  in  the  week  a  dinner  was 
given  to  twelve  or  fifteen  persons  :  and  on  these  days  Madame 
Buonaparte  saw  company  in  the  evening.  The  circle,  at  first 
small,  grew  more  numerous  by  degrees.  There  were  a  few  card- 
tables  set  out  for  form's  sake  ;  and  the  First  Consul,  who  gene- 
rally made  his  appearance,  sometimes  sat  down  at  one  of  them. 
There  was  less  restraint  at  Malmaison  than  at  Sc.  Cloud  ;  the  eti- 
quette became  the  stricter  with  the  enlargement  of  the  place. 
The  First  Consul  did  not  merely  make  choice  of  St.  Cloud  in 
preference  to  Malmaison,  as  a  summer  residence  ;  he  remained 
there  in  the  autumn  and  part  of  the  winter,  till  the  bad  weather 
drove  him  into  Paris.  His  object  was  in  part  bx  secluding  him- 
self here  to  be  less  in  view,  more  difficult  of  access,  and  to  sur- 
round himself  with  the  mysteriousness  of  greatness.  Every 
thing  around  him  hastened  fast  to  become  a  copy  of  Versailles 
and  of  all  other  courts,  with  a  reserve  however  of  certain  essen- 
tial differences. 

One  thing  that  formed  a  strong  objection  to  the  morning  audi- 
ences at  St.  Cloud,  was  the  mass  that  preceded  them.  Many  of 
those  who  had  to  attend  the  First  C  nsul  hated  the  priests;  most 
were  indifferent  to  the  worship  itself;  no  one  approved  this  kind 
of  mockery  of  it.  For  nothing  could  be  more  artificial  or  theatri- 
cal— the  actresses  of  the  Opera  being  regularly  hired  to  sing  the 


THE   CONSULATE.  125 


praises  of  God.  Neither  was  there  room  for  three-fourths  of  the 
visitors,  who  formed  groups  and  loitered  about  in  the  galleries. 
The  First  Consul,  mortified  at  this  luke-warmness,  had  the  ser- 
vice performed  an  hour  sooner  than  usual,  saying  that  "  it  was  to 
excuse  those  who  had  no  inclination  lo  attend  it." 

By  degrees,  the  dresses  of  the  court  changed  almost  entirely. 
The  sword  and  silk-stockings  succeeded  to  the  sabre  and  military 
boots.  The  First  Consul,  who  never  appeared  but  in  uniform, 
had  on  the  celebration  of  the  14th  of  July,  1801,  worn  a  dress  of 
red  Lyons  silk  embroidered,  but  without  ruffles  and  with  a  black 
stock.  This  dress  seemed  oddly  chosen  ;  nevertheless  he  was 
complimented  upon  it,  all  but  the  stock.  He  laughed  and  said, 
"  There  should  be  always  something  that  has  a  military  look  ; 
there  is  no  harm  in  that." — Gaudin,  Minister  of  Finance,  was 
one  of  the  first  who  came  lo  the  audience  at  St.  Cloud  with  his 
hair  in  a  bag,  and  with  lace.  They  followed  this  example  by 
little  and  little  to  please  the  First  Consul  ;  but  the  attempt  to  re- 
turn to  the  old  fashion  was  for  some  time  a  real  masquerade. 
One  wore  a  cravat  with  a  full-dress  coat,  another  a  stock  with  a 
plain  coat,  a  third  a  bag,  a  fourth  a  cue  ;  some  had  their  hair 
powdered,  the  greater  number  were  without  powder;  there 
were  only  no  wigs.  All  these  trifles  were  become  important 
affairs.  The  old-fashioned  hair-dressers  were  at  war  with  the 
new.  Every  morning  they  looked  at  the  head  of  the  First  Con- 
sul :  if  he  had  been  once  seen  with  powder,  it  would  have  been 
all  over  with  one  of  the  most  healthy  and  convenient  fashions  in- 
troduced by  the  Revolution  ;  hair  in  its  natural  state  would  have 
been  exploded.  This  grave  matter  was  agitated  in  the  discus- 
sions of  the  ushers  in  waiting  ;  but  the  First  Consul  could  nn 
make  up  his  mind  to  this  reaction,  and  every  one  was  left  at 
liberty  to  wear  his  hair  as  he  liked.  It  was  understood,  howevei , 
to  be  more  decent  and  more  agreeable  to  the  First  Consul  to  wea  ■ 
powder  and  the  hair  tied,  fie  had  no  objection  to  making  othei  : 
into  puppets  and  pieces  of  costume,  though  be  did  not  choose  t> 
become  so  himself.  So  amidst  all  the  frippery  of  outward  formr, 
lie  retained  the  same  stern  simplicity  of  character  and  self-posses 
sion.  Foreigners  in  general,  and  particularly  the  English,  who 
had   tiieir  hair   cropped   and  went   abroad  without    powder,  when 


126  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


they  appeared  at  court  powdered  their  heads  and  fastened  a  bag 
to  the  collar  of  their  coats. 

The  women  who  inclined  to  the  ancient  regime  out  of  vanity 
and  love  of  change,  were,  notwithstanding,  the  declared  enemies 
of  powder:  they  had  their  reasons.  They  trembled  that  the  re- 
form of  dress  should  reach  them,  and  that  they  might  finish  witn 
large  hoop-petticoats,  after  beginning  with  hind-curls  and  toupets. 
They  worn  not  unfounded  in  these  conjectures,  for  the  dowagers 
of  the  court  of  Louis  XVI.  maintained  that  no  one  could  have  the 
court-air  with  the  Greek  and  Roman  dresses,  and  that  the  cor- 
ruption of  manners  was  to  be  dated  from  heads  a-la-Titus,  and 
drapery  displaying  the  shape.  Madame  Buonaparte  was  at  the 
head  of  the  opposition  on  this  occasion  :  it  belonged  to  the  most 
graceful  and  elegant  woman  of  the  court  to  defend  taste  and  good 
sense  against  the  inroads  of  prescriptive  barbarism.  She  hated 
every  kind  of  restraint  and  ostentation.  She  often  repeated  her 
favorite  saying:  "  How  all  this  fatigues  and  annovs  me!  I  have 
not  a  moment  to  myself.  I  was  meant  to  be  the  wife  of  a  laborer  !" 
This  simplicity  of  character  and  feeling  was  not  confined  to  dress  : 
she  manifested  the  same  unaffected  modesty  and  good  sense  in  re- 
sisting the  encroachments  of  pomp  and  power;  and  in  parting 
with  her,  Buonaparte  lost  his  better  genius.  In  this,  it  has  been 
said,  she  had  her  own  private  ends  to  answer;  but  if  her  conduct 
had  not  also  arisen  from  her  natural  character  and  from  a  regard- 
to  others,  she  would  have  been  dazzled  by  the  immediate  gran- 
deur, and  would  have  overlooked  remote  and  possible  conse- 
quences. The  heart  gives  better  counsel  than  the  head  ;  for  true 
friendship  quickens  our  sense  of  the  real  interests  of  those  we  love. 

Buonaparte  seldom  entered  into  long  conversations  with  women  ; 
nor  did  the  severity  of  his  character  easily  descend  to  gallantry. 
There  were  some  to  whom  he  took  an  aversion,  occasionally  with 
reason,  and  often  with  no  other  reason  than  that  they  had  dis- 
pleased him.  lie  sometimes  paid  them  awkward  compliments 
on  their  dress  or  their  adventures  ;  it  was  one.  way  of  censuring 
their  manners.  There  was  now  and  then  a  talk  of  his  attachment 
to  some  women  of  the  court;  but.  these  were  caprices  of  the  mo- 
ment, and  those  to  whom  he  showed  most  partiality  had  no  influ- 
ence over  him,  at  least  in  state-affairs.     He   was  really  fond  of 


THE   CONSULATE.  127 

no  one  but  Josephine,  notwithstanding  the  disproportion  of  years 
between  them.  Towards  her  lie  was  now  jealous  and  severe, 
now  tender  and  confiding.  She  answered  with  her  whole  heart 
to  the  fondness  of  her  husband  ;  she  supported  his  humors  pa- 
tiently, but  could  never  reconcile  herself  to  his  infidelities.  On 
the  whole  they  lived  very  happily  together.  He  was  persuaded 
that  he  owed  his  happiness  to  her,  and  she  felt  in  the  same  man- 
ner towards  him.  She  had  gone  to  drink  the  waters  of  Plom- 
bieres  in  Messidor,  in  the  year  X. :  he  grew  weary  of  her  ab- 
sence, and  wrote  her  the  most  affectionate  letters.  When  she 
returned,  he  went  part  of  the  way  to  meet  her,  loaded  her  with 
caresses,  and  brought  her  back  in  triumph  to  Malmaison. 

In  courts  governed  by  women,  the  prevailing  tone  is  to  be  in- 
triguing, light,  and  vain.  Something  worse  than  all  this  was  to 
be  found  in  the  history  of  the  past.  The  greater  part  of  those 
who  formed  the  court  of  the  First  Consul,  not  having  been  early 
fashioned  in  a  frivolous  school  of  manners,  discovered  their  natural 
disposition,  which  was  moral  and  good.  Buonaparte  wished  for 
a  certain  decorum  and  gravity  tempered  with  elegance,  politeness, 
and  grace  :  Madame  Buonaparte  set  an  example  of  all  this.  It 
was  no  longer  the  custom  for  men  to  boast  of  their  excesses  or  to 
hold  up  their  vices  to  admiration  as  models  of  courtly  refinement 
and  of  the  sacoir  vivrc.  The  Revolution  had  undoubtedly  tended 
to  improve  the  morals  :  but  should  the  prejudiced  or  ill-informed 
De  disposed  to  dispute  this,  they  cannot  deny  that  at  least  it  had 
produced  a  greater  deference  to  public  opinion  and  attention  to 
appearances.  The  First  Consul  more  than  once  carried  his  so- 
licitude on  this  point  to  severity,  lie  had  no  children  of  his  own, 
but  showed  every  mark  of  attention  and  kindness  to  those  of  his 
wit'.'  by  her  former  marriage.  They  justified  his  regard  by  their 
excellent  qualities  and  their  attachment.  Eugene  Beauharnais 
was  full  of  honor,  faithful,  and  brave  ;  Hortense  was  mild,  amiable, 
and  affectionate.  By  uniting  her  in  marriage  to  his  brother  Louis, 
the  First  Consul  thought  to  reconcile  his  political  views  with  the 
happiness  of  his  step-daughter.  In  the  midst  of  the  reveries  which 
floated  in  his  mind  respecting  the  stability  and  foundation  of  his 
dynasty,  he  had  little  hope  of  heirs  direct,  and  this  marriage  pro- 
mised to  supply  them  collaterally.     Neither  Lucien   nor  Joseph 


128  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


Buonaparte  at  all  relished  the  match.  Hortense  became  the 
mother  of  a  boy.  Rumors  without  any  foundation,  and  quite  ab- 
surd  to  those  who  knew  any  thing  of  the  persons,  were  spread 
abroad  on  this  occasion.  This  child  was  pointed  out.  by  puhiic 
opinion  as  the  presumptive  heir  to  the  Consular  Power;  but  he 
died  a  ihxv  years  after,  to  the  great  mortification  and  chagrin  of 
Buonaparte,  who  wished  to  adopt  him  as  his  successor.  In  the 
course  of  these  pages  will  he  seen  his  opinions  and  arguments  on 
the  subject  of  the  law  proposed  respecting  adoption  ;  and  the  ex- 
travagance and  almost  frenzy  to  which  he  worked  himself  up  in 
endeavoring  by  u  mew  fiat  of  the  will  to  place  the  child  of  adop- 
tion in  the  same  degree  of  proximity  as  the  child  of  the  same  blood 
and  bone^  will  prove  to  a  demonstration  to  all  those  who  have  the 
least  insight  into  character  or  human  nature,  that  he  was  not,  as 
had  been  grossly  pretended,  the  father  of  the  child  by  a  spurious 
connexion. 

The  First  Consul  could  not  set  up  pretensions  to  he  a  perfect 
equestrian,  though  on  horseback  he  was  daring  to  imprudence. 
Nor  could  it  be  said  of  him,  according  to  the  poet,  that  he  "  ex- 
celled in  guiding  a  chariot  to  the  goal."*  One  day  he  was 
resolved  to  display  his  skill  in  the  park  of  St.  Cloud,  by  driving 
a  calash  four-in-hand,  in  which  were  Madame  Buonaparte,  her 
daughter,  Madame  Duroc,  Joseph  Buonaparte,  and  the  Consul 
Cambaceres.  At  the  gate  which  separates  the  garden  from  the 
park,  he  struck  against  a  post,  lost  his  balance,  and  was  thrown 
oil' to  a  considerable  distance.  lie  strove  to  rise,  fell  down  again, 
and  lost,  his  recollection.  The  horses  in  the  moan  time,  which 
.had  run  away  with  the  carriage,  were  stopped,  and  the  ladies 
were  lifted  out  almost  ready  to  faint.  With  some  difficulty  the 
First  Consul  came  to  himself,  and  continued  the  ride,  but  inside 
the  carriage.  [Tchad  received  a  slight  contusion  on  the  chin, 
and  the  right  wrist  had  been  a  little  hurt.  On  returning  home, 
he  said,  ';  1  believe  every  one  ought  to  keep  to  his  own  profes- 
sion." lie  hail  Laplace.  Monge,  and  Berthollet  to  dine  with  him. 
He  conversed  with  them  the  whole  evening,  as  if  nothing  had 
happened.  Nevertheless,  he  owned  that  lie  never  thought  him- 
self so  near  death  as  at  this  moment.  Madame  Buonaparte  con- 
*  "  II  cxcello  b.  conduiro  im  char  clans  la  curricre." 


THE   CONSULATE.  1V9 


tinned  extremely  ill ,  and  said  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  "  \* 
the  instant  of  his  fall,  Buonaparte  had  his  eyes  turned  inwur... 
and  I  thought  he  was  dead.  He  has  promised  never  to  run  tht 
same  risk  again.  He  has  often  been  blamed  for  his  extreme  care- 
lessness on  horseback  ;  he  frightens  every  one  who  accompanies 
him.  Corvisart  has  been  called  in  ;  he  did  not  think  it  necessary 
to  let  blood.  The  First  Consul  wishes  that  this  accident  should 
not  be  talked  of." 

A  like  accident  is  related  to  have  happened  to  Oliver  Crom- 
well. He  had  received  as  a  present  from  a  German  prince,  a 
set  of  six  horses,  remarkable  for  their  beauty  and  swiftness. 
Having  gone  with  his  secretary,  Thurloe,  to  take  a  ride  in  Hyde 
Park,  in  a  light  carriage  drawn  by  these  horses,  he  took  it  into 
his  head  to  drive  them  himself,  not  thinking  it  would  be  more 
difficult  to  manage  half  a  dozen  horses  than  to  govern  three  king- 
doms. But  the  horses,  spirited  and  untraceable  under  the  hand 
of  their  new  driver,  grew  restive  and  ran  away  with  the  car 
nape,  which  was  soon  overturned.  In  his  fall,  a  pistol  which 
Cromwell  had  about  him  went  oil"  without  wounding  him.  The 
Protector  was  taken  up,  stunned  and  bruised  with  his  fall,  but 
less  hurt  than  Thurloe. — If  this  is  any  thing  more  than  a  mere 
casual  coincidence,  it  might  seem  as  if  usurpers,  or  those  who 
have  seized  the  reins  of  government  into  their  own  hands,  have 
an  ambition  to  be  charioteers,  where  there  is  a  sense  of  power, 
and  of  a  difficulty  and  dexterity  in  directing  it.  Legitimate 
rulers,  from  Nimrod  downwards,  have  been  remarked  to  have  a 
passion  tor  hunting,  where  they  are  carried  along  by  a  violerD 
borrowed  imDulse  and  seem  like  the  natural  lords  of  the  creation 

7* 


LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


CHAPTER   XXY. 

DIFFERENT    POLITICAL    PROJECTS    AGITATED    IN    THE    COUNCIL    OK 

STATE. 

We  have  hitherto  chiefly  seen  Buonaparte  either  at  the  head 
of  armies,  or  acting  in  public  with  the  eclat,  the  authority,  and 
sense  of  responsibility,  which  bis  situation  implied.  A  work  of 
great  authenticity,  candor,  and  ability,  lately  published,  enables 
us  at  present  to  view  him  in  an  intellectual  undress,  without  (lis- 
guise  or  parade,  with  his  thoughts  rising  to  his  lips  as  they  rose 
in  his  mind,  with  his  projects  half  formed  and  growing  to  matu- 
rity, and  contending  with  bis  confidential  friends  and  counsellors 
in  the  most  perfect  freedom  and  in  downright  earnest,  about,  the 
reasons  and  propriety  of  their  adoption  or  rejection.  Few  per- 
sons in  history,  who  have  acted  a  conspicuous  part  in  the  world, 
would  bear  this  mental  exposure  and  comparison  so  well.  There 
is  no  loss,  but  rather  an  increase  of  the  idea  of  sterling  sense  and 
talent  ;  nor  is  there  much  abatement  of  striking  effect.  It  is  like 
a  fine  portrait  after  a  number  of  vile  caricatures.  There  is  a. 
masterly  display  of  inexhaustible  activity,  vigor,  and  subtlety, 
joined  with  great  singularity,  simplicity,  and  even  naivczc. 
There  are  some  touches  so  dramatic;  as  to  lav  open  the  whole 
secret  of  his  conduct,  and  to  show  that  his  greatness  or  his  weak- 
nesses, ln's  good  or  evil  fortune,  were  not  in  his  own  power,  but  a 
consequence  of  the  inbred  and  invincible  bias  of  his  character. 
lie  formed  in  this  respect  a  species  bv  himself,  utterly  distinct  from 
modern  effeminacy  or  Kuropean  civilization.  There  is  an  adust 
fibre,  a  heat  of  blood  evidently  borrowed  from  the  Kast.  lie  was 
a  Tamerlane  or  Gengis  Khan,  dropped  not  only  in  the  vortex 
of  'he  Revolution,  which  was  nut  amiss,  but  in  the  centre  of 
1'aris,  the  most  unfortunate  situation  into  which  a  great  man 
could  fall. 


COUNCIL   OF   STATE.  131 

I  shall  throw  together  in  this  chapter  and  the  following,  his 
opinions  and  arguments  on  the  Lists  of  Notability,  the  Legion  of 
Honor,  the  Concordat,  Schools,  the  Colonies,  and  the  Law  of  Di- 
vorce, which  will  a  little  anticipate  the  order  of  time  ;  but  will,  I 
hope,  decide  the  reader's  judgment  of  the  real  dimensions  and  struc- 
ture of  his  mind,  and  serve  to  explain  and  open  out  his  political 
views  and  principles.  I  shall  also  take  this  opportunity  to  make 
some  remarks  and  enter  a  protest  of  my  own  on  these  subjects. 

The  First  Consul  showed  little  partiality  to  the  Lists  of  Nota- 
bility, which  were  brought  forward  in  the  Council  of  State  (14th 
Pluviose,  year  IX.)  and  which  were  designed  to  point  out  by  pop- 
ular vote  5000  or  (3000  individuals,  from  whom  all  public  officers 
were  to  be  chosen,  and  the  Tribunate  and  Legislative  Body  were 
to  be  regularly  recruited  by  the  Senate.  This  was  one  of  the 
complicated  and  artificial  provisions  of  Sieyes's  patch-work  Con- 
stitution. Emmery,  one  of  the  members  of  the  Council,  said  that 
the  lists  were  condemned  by  public  opinion,  because  they  deprived 
the  greater  number  of  citizens  of  that  which  was  the  most  flat- 
tering result  of  the  French  Revolution,  their  immediate  eligibility 
to  all  public  offices  and  honors.  The  First  Consul  declared  that 
the  Institution  was  altogether  bad  ;  it  was  an  absurd  and  spurious 
product  of  ideology.  "  Fifty  men,  met  together  in  a  desperate 
crisis,  have  no  right  to  annul  the  rights  of  the  people.  Neverthe- 
less, detestable  as  the  Institution  is,  it  is  a  part  of  the  Constitution; 
it  is  our  business  to  execute  it,  in  that  we  do  our  duty  and  show 
our  good-will."  Buonaparte  was  friendly  to  liberty,  except  when 
his  own  person  was  concerned.  Still  he  listened  to  the  arguments 
in  favor  of  this  measure,  which  was  finally  carried.  Rcederer, 
who  brought  the  measure  forward,  saw  in  the  Lists  of  Notability 
a  step  towards  his  favorite  projects  of  hereditary  succession  and 
aristocracy.  The  new  nobility  was  to  proceed  from  the  same 
egg.  Mathieu  Dumas  was  against  the  Lists,  because  he  did  not 
want  a  nobility  of  the  Revolution,  but  was  wholly  devoted  to  the 
ancient  nohlrssc. 

Tiff:  Legion"  of  IIoxor. — At  the  sitting  of  the  Council  of  State 
of  the  14th  of  Floreal,  year  X.,  the  First  Consul  desired  Rct- 
derer  to  read  aloud  the  project  for  the  establishment  of  the  Legion 
of  Honor ;  and  after  the  reading,  he  explained  the  motives  for  it. 


133  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

"The  actual  system  of  military  rewards,"  he  observed,  "is  not 
well  regulated.  The  87th  article  of  the  Constitution  provides, 
indeed,  national  recompences  for  military  men,  but  without  speci- 
fying the  way.  A  decree  has  been  passed  to  authorize  the  distri- 
bution of  arms  of  honor,  which  implies  double,  pay,  and  occasions 
a  considerable  expense.  There  are  arms  of  honor  with  an  aug- 
mentation, others  without  any  remuneration.  It  is  a  system  of 
confusion,  one  does  not  know  what  it  is.  Besides,  it  is  necessary 
to  give  a  direction  to  the  spirit  of  the  army,  and  above  all,  to  sus- 
tain it.  What  actually  supports  it  is  the  notion  among  the  mili- 
tary that  they  fill  the  place  of  the  former  nobles.  The  project 
in  question  gives  a  greater  degree  of  consistency  to  the  system 
of  rewards,  it  forms  a  whole  ;  it  is  a  commencement  of  the  or- 
ganization of  the  nation."  Mathieu  Dumas  read  a  memoir  in 
support  of  the  proposed  Institution.  He  objected  to  the  plan,  inas- 
much as  it  admitted  mere  citizens  into  the  Legion  of  Honor.  He 
wished  it  to  be  composed  entirely  of  the  military,  in  order  to  main- 
tain this  spirit  in  the  nation  and  in  the  army.  Honor  and  mar- 
tial glory  has  been  regularly  on  the  decline  since  the  abolition  of 
the  feudal  system,  which  had  given  the  precedency  to  the  soldier. 
Such  was  the  idea  he  developed.  He  concluded  by  insisting  that 
lo  citizen  should  be  admitted  into  the  Legion  of  Honor,  without 
ai  least  being  able  to  prove  that  he  had  complied  with  the  laws  on 
the  Conscription. 

The  First  Consul. — "  These  notions  might  have  held  good  in 
the  time  of  the  feudal  system  and  of  chivalry,  or  when  the  Cauls 
were  conquered  by  the  Franks.  The  nation  was  enslaved:  the 
conquerors  alone  were  i'vve  ;  they  were  every  thing,  they  were 
so  as  being  soldiers.  Then  the  first  quality  of  a  general  or  of  a 
chief  was  bodily  strength.  So  Clovis,  Charlemagne  were  the 
strongest  and  most  active  men  in  their  armies  :  they  alone  were 
equal  singly  to  a  number  of  soldiers,  to  a  battalion  ;  that  was 
what  ensured  them  obedience  and  respect.  It  was  a  consequence 
of  the  mode  of  warfare  practised  at  the  time.  The  knights 
fought  hand  to  hand  ;  force  and  address  decided  the  victory.  Lut 
whm  the  military  svstem  changed,  when  disciplined  troops,  the 
Macedonian  phalanx,  large  masses  succeeded  to  the  fashion  of 
single  combat  between  the  knights,  it  was  quite  another  thing  ;   h 


COUNCIL   OF   STATE  ijj 

was  no  longer  individual  strength  which  determined  the  fate  of 
battles,  but  science,  masterly  coup- d' ceil,  and  so  on.  One  may 
see  the  proofs  of  this  in  what  took  place  at  the  battles  of  Agincourt, 
Cressy,  and  Poictiers.  King  John  and  his  Knights  gave  way  be- 
fore the  Gascon  phalanxes,  as  the  troops  of  Darius  had  done 
before  the  Macedonian.  This  is  the  reason  why  no  other  power 
could  stop  the  victorious  march  of  the  Roman  legions. 

"  The  alteration  then  in  the  military  system,  and  not  the  abo- 
lition of  the  feudal  system,  would  unavoidably  modify  the  quali- 
fications required  in  a  general.  Not  to  say  that  the  feudal  sys- 
tem was  abolished  by  the  kings  themselves,  to  shake  off  the  yoke 
of  a  sullen  and  turbulent  nobility.  They  enfranchised  the  com- 
mons and  had  battalions  raised  from  among  the  people.  The 
martial  spirit,  instead  of  being  confined  to  some  thousands  of 
Franks,  extended  to  all  the  Gauls.  It  was  not  weakened  by  this 
circumstance  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  acquired  greater  strength.  It 
was  no  longer  exclusive,  founded  solely  on  individual  force  and 
violence,  but  on  social  qualities.  The  discovery  of  gunpowder 
had  also  a  prodigious  influence  on  the  changes  in  the  military 
system,  and  on  all  the  consequences  it  drew  after  it.  Since  that 
period,  what  is  it  that  constitutes  the  superiority  of  a  general? 
His  mental  qualities,  his  coup-d' 'ceil,  calculation,  quickness,  his  ad- 
ministrative resources,  eloquence,  not  that  of  the  advocate,  but 
that  which  suits  the  head  of  an  army,  and  finally  the  knowledge 
of  mankind  :  all  this  belongs  to  the  civil  order.  It  is  not  at  pre- 
sent a  man  six  feet  three  inches  high  who  will  do  the  greatest 
things.  If  it  sufficed  in  order  to  be  a  general  to  have  strength 
and  courage,  every  soldier  might  pretend  to  the  command.  The 
general  who  succeeds  in  the  greatest  undertakings  is  the  one  who 
combines  the  greatest  number  of  the  above  qualities.  It  is  from 
his  being  thought  to  possess  mure  understanding  that  the  soldiers 
obev  and  respect  him.  It  is  necessary  to  hear  them  talk  in  the 
bi\  macs:  they  esteem  a  leader  who  knows  how  to  form  a  right 
judgment  much  mire  than  one  who  merely  shows  the  greatest 
braverv;  not  that  the  common  soldier  does  not  value  bravery, 
for  he  would  despise  a  general  who  was  without  ir.  Murad-Bcy 
was  the  strongest  and  most  expert  of  all  the  Mamelukes;  without 
that  he  would  not  have  been  Bey.      When  he  saw  me,  he  had  no 

12 


134  LIFE   OF    NAPOLEON. 


conception  how  I  could  command  my  troops ;  nor  did  he  comprff. 
hend  it  till  he  understood  our  system  of  warfare.  The  Mame- 
lukes fought  like  the  knights  of  old,  body  opposed  to  body  and 
without  any  order,  which  was  the  reason  that  we  beat  them.  If 
we  had  destroyed  the  Mamelukes,  freed  Egypt,  and  formed  bat- 
talions of  the  inhabitants,  the  martial  spirit  would  not  have  been 
annihilated  ;  its  force  would  on  the  contrary  have  been  rendered 
more  considerable.  In  all  places,  brute  force  yields  to  moral 
qualities.  The  bayonet  bows  down  before  the  priest  who  speaks 
in  the  name  of  heaven,  or  before  the  man  who  can  make  good  a 
superiority  in  knowledge.  I  have  told  military  men,  who  had 
their  doubts  on  this  subject,  that  a  military  government  would 
never  do  in  France  unless  the  nation  had  been  first  brutalized  by 
fifty  years  of  ignorance.  All  such  attempts  will  fail,  and  their 
authors  will  fall  victims  to  them.  It  is  not  as  General  that  I 
govern,  but  because  the  people  think  that  I  have  some  civil  quali- 
fications proper  to  government :  if  they  were  not  of  this  opinion, 
the  Government  could  not  stand.  I  knew  well  what  I  did  when, 
at  the  head  of  the  army,  I  took  the  title  of  a  member  of  the  Insti- 
tute :  1  felt  sure  of  not  being  mistaken  even  by  the  lowest  drum- 
mer in  the  army. 

'■  It  is  wrong  to  argue  from  the  barbarous  ages  to  the  present 
times.  We  amount  to  thirty  millions  of  men  connected  together 
by  knowledge,  interest,  commerce,  and  language.  Three  or 
four  hundred  thousand  military  are  nothing  compared  with  this 
ma-s.  Besides  that  the  general  commands  only  bv  his  civil  qual- 
ities, from  the  time  that  he  is  no  longer  on  duty,  he  returns  into 
the  civil  order.  The  soldiers  themselves  are  the  sons  of  citizens. 
The  army  is  a  part  <>l'  the  nation.  If  wo  consider  the  militarv 
abstractedly  from  all  these  relations,  we  shall  soon  be  convinced 
that  they  know  no  other  law  but  force;  that  they  refer  every 
thing  to  it,  that  they  see  only  that.  The  citizen,  on  the  other 
hand,  recognizes  only  the  general  grind.  The  characteristic  of 
the  soldier  is  to  will  all  despotically;  that  of  tiie  citizen  is  to  sub- 
mit everv  thing  to  discussion.  to  truth,  to  reason.  These  have 
th"ir  different  prisms,  and  are  often  mixed  up  with  error,  but  still 
discussion  produces  light.  I  have  no  hesitation  then  in  thinking; 
that  as  to  the  question  of  precedence,  it  belongs   incontestable"  to 


COUNCIL   OF   STATE.  133 

the  civil  character.  If  we  were  to  distinguish  however  into  mili- 
tary and  civil,  this  would  be  to  establish  two  orders  in  the  state, 
while  there  is  but  one  nation.  If  honors  were  conferred  only  on 
the  military,  this  preference  would  be  still  worse,  for  the  nation 
would  be  no  longer  anything." 

These  sentiments,  sustained  by  a  force  of  eloquence  and  reason, 
ing  not  at  all  common,  were  shared  by  the  great  majority  of  the 
Council  composed  of  civilians,  and  had  an  immense  weight  in  the 
mouth  of  the  chief  of  the  Government,  of  the  first  General  of  the 
army.  Dumas  felt  no  temptation  to  reply.  No  one  took  up  the 
question.  It  seemed  as  if  there  was  an  apprehension  of  weaken- 
ing the  impression  made  by  this  discourse  ;  and  the  First  Consul 
broke  up  the  sitting  in  order  to  leave  the  impression  entire. 
Nothing  had  so  far  been  said  on  the  most  delicate  part  of  the  ques- 
tion, the  utility  or  disadvantages  of  the  Institution  itself.  The 
subject  was  renewed  in  the  sitting  of  the  18th.  The  opponents 
of  the  project  did  not  set  their  faces  against  every  kind  of  reward 
and  distinction.  The  Legislative  Assemblies  had  at  different 
times  decreed  them;  but  the  present  institution  was  regarded  as 
an  order,  and  this  was  held  to  be  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  equality, 
the  most  essential  characteristic  of  the  French  Republic.  An 
allusion  to  the  Greeks  and  Romans  also  escaped  some  of  the 
speakers. 

Berlier  said  :  :'  The  proposed  order  leads  to  aristocracy  ;  crosses 
and  ribbons  are  the  child's  playthings  of  monarchy.  I  shall  not 
appeal  to  the  example  of  the  Romans  ;  there  existed  among  them 
patricians  and  plebeians.  This  had  nothing  to  do  with  a  system 
of  honorary  rewards.  It  was  a  political  institution,  a  division  of 
classes  which  might  have  its  advantages  as  well  as  inconve- 
niences. The  citizens  were  classed  according  to  their  birth,  and 
not  with  reference  to  their  services.  Honors  and  national  recom- 
pences  were  transient  distinctions,  made  no  change  in  the  rank  of 
the  individual,  and  did  not  form  a  separate  class  of  those  who  had 
entitled  themselves  to  them.  For  the  rest,  we  have  abolished  ranks 
and  have  no  wish  to  restore  them.  The  magistracies  and  pub- 
lic employments  ought  in  a  Republic  to  be  the  highest  rewards  of 
services,  of  talents,  and  of  virtue."  Berlier  then  refuted  the  opin- 
ion of  Dumas. 


136  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


The  First  Consul,  in  reply  to  Berlier,  and  more  particularly  to 
'/hose  who  had  cited  the  ancients  as  models,  said  : — 

"  They  are  always  talking  to  us  of  the  Romans  ;  it  is  not  a  lit- 
tle strange  that,  in  order  to  set  aside  social  distinctions,  we  should 
be  referred  to  the  example  of  a  people  among  whom  they  existed 
in  the  most  marked  manner.  Is  this  showing  an  acquaintance 
with  history  ?  The  Romans  had  patricians,  knights,  citizens  and 
slaves.  They  had  moreover  for  each  class  divers  costumes,  and 
different  manners.  They  decreed  as  recompences  all  sorts  of  dis- 
tinctions ;  names  which  recalled  the  particular  service,  mural 
crowns,  public  triumphs.  They  employed  even  the  sanction  of 
superstition.  Take  away  the  religion  of  Rome,  and  you  leave 
nothing  standing.  When  this  noble  band  of  patricians  lost  its 
influence,  Rome  was  torn  in  pieces  ;  the  people  were  the  vilest 
rabble.  You  then  saw  the  fury  of  Marius,  the  proscriptions  of 
Sylla,  and  afterwards  the  Emperors.  In  like  manner  they  al- 
ways cite  Brutus  as  the  enemy  of  tyrants.  Be  it  so  ;  but  in  fact 
Brutus  was  no  better  than  an  aristocrat  :  he  killed  Ccesar  for  no 
other  reason  than  because  Csesar  wanted  to  diminish  the  authority 
of  the  senate,  in  order  to  increase  that  of  the  people.  Such  is  the 
manner  in  which  ignorance  or  party-spirit  quotes  history. 

"  I  defy  any  one  to  point  out  a  republic,  ancient  or  modern,  in 
which  there  is  no  distinction  of  ranks.*  They  call  all  that  child's 
rattles  :  be  it  so  !  it  is  with  children's  rattles  that  men  are  led. 
I  would  not  say  that  to  a  tribune  ;  but  in  a  council  of  wise  men 
and  statesmen  one  ought  to  speak  out.  I  do  not  believe  that  the 
French  people  love  liberty  and  equality.  The  French  character 
has  not  been  changed  by  ten  years  of  revolution  :  they  are  still 
what  their  ancestors  the  Gauls  were,  vain  and  light.  They  are 
susceptible  but  of  one  sentiment,  honor  ;  it  is  right  then  to  afford 
nourishment  to  this  sentiment,  and  to  allow  of  distinctions.  Ob- 
serve how  the  people  bow  before  the  decorations  of  foreigners  :  the 
latter  have  been  surprised  themselves  at  the  effect,  and  take  care 
never  to  appear  without  them. 

•'  Voltaire  calls  the  common  soldiers  so  many  Alexanders  at 
Jive  sous  a  day.  He  was  right:  it  is  just  so.  Do  you  imagine 
you  can  make  men  light  by  reasoning  ?  Never.  It  is  only  fit  for 
*  Is  not  America  an  instance  ?     Was  not  France  ? 


COUNCIL   OF   STATE  137 


the  student  in  his  closet.  You  must  bribe  the  soldier  with  glory, 
distinction,  rewards.  The  armies  of  the  Republic  have  done 
wonders,  because  they  were  composed  of  the  sons  of  peasants  and 
of  substantial  farmers,  and  not  of  the  mere  rabble  ;  because  the 
officers  had  taken  the  situations  of  those  of  the  ancient  regime,  but 
also  through  a  sentiment  of  honor.  It  was  on  the  same  principle 
that  the  armies  of  Louis  XIV.  performed  such  great  things.* 
People  may,  if  they  please,  call  the  project  an  order  ;  names  do 
not  alter  the  nature  of  things."  [Yet  what  is  the  thing  itself  but 
a  name  ?]  "  But  to  come  to  the  point  ;  during  ten  years  there 
has  been  a  talk  of  institutions  :  what  has  been  done  ?  Nothing. 
The  time  was  not  arrived.  It  was  thought  a  happy  expedient  to 
assemble  the  people  in  the  churches,  there  to  shiver  with  cold  in 
hearing  the  laws  recited,  in  perusing  and  studying  their  contents. 
It  is  not  a  very  amusing  employment  even  for  those  whose  busi- 
ness it  is  to  execute  them  ;  how  then  could  the  people  be  expected 
to  take  an  interest  in  such  an  occupation  ?  I  know  well  enough 
that  if  we  place  ourselves  in  the  skull-cap  that  encloses  the  ten 
years  of  the  Revolution,  we  shall  in  that  point  of  view  find  that 
the  plan  is  good  for  nothing  ;  but  if  we  place  ourselves  after  the 
Revolution,  and  admit  the  actual  necessity  we  are  under  of organ- 
izing  the  nation,  we  shall  think  differently.  All  has  been  over- 
turned ;  we  want  at  present  to  build  up  again.  There  is  a 
Government,  with  certain  powers  ;  as  to  all  the  rest  of  the  nation, 
what  is  it  but  grains  of  sand  ?  We  have  in  the  midst  of  usT  the 
remains  of  the  old  privileged  classes,  connected  by  principles  and 
interests,  and  knowing  well  what  it  is  they  want.  I  can  count 
our  enemies.  But  as  to  ourselves,  we  are  scattered,  without  sys- 
tem, without  union,  without  contact.  As  long  as  I  remain.  I  can 
answer  for  the  Republic  ;  but  we  must  provide  for  the  future. 
Do  you  suppose  that  the  Republic  is  definitively  established?  It 
would  be  a  gross  mistake.  We  have  it  in  our  power  to  achieve 
this  object,  but  we  have  not  yet  done  it,  nor  shall  we  ever  succeed 

*  What  a  desire  there  seems  to  be  here  and  everywhere  to  neutralize  the 
supposed  influence  of  the  Revolution,  and  to  separate  liberty  from  glory  aa 
its  natural  offspring  !  In  the  addresses  to  the  army  of  Italy,  he  said,  "  None 
but  the  Republican  soldiers  can  do  all  this  !•"' 

t  Was  it  not  o  wince  to  the   First    Consul  that  it  was  so  ? 

12* 


13S  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

in  it,  if  we  do  not,  as  a  foundation,  cast  some  blocks  of  granite  on 
the  soil  of  France.  Do  you  suppose  we  can  reckon  upon  t.'io 
people  ?     They  cry  indifferently,  Vive  le  Eoi,  vim  la  Ligue  !     It 

is  then  necessary  to  give  them  a  direction,  and  to  have  instruments 
for  that  purpose.  In  the  war  of  La  A'endee,  I  have  seen  forty 
men  govern  a  department  ;  it  is  of  this  system  that  we  ought  to 
avail  ourselves.  In  fine,  it  is  agreed  that  we  have  need  of  some 
kind  of  institutions  :  if  this  is  not  approved  of,  let  some  other  he 
proposed.  I  do  not  pretend  that  it  alone  will  save  the  State,  but  it 
will  do  its  part." 

The  Second  Consul  (Cambaceres)  defended  the  project,  and 
applied  himself  principally  to  show  that  the  Constitution  did  not 
disallow  of  honorary  distinctions.  Portalis  followed  on  the  same 
side,  and  developed  the  principles  laid  down  by  J.  J.  Rousseau 
on  the  influence  and  the  importance  of  signs.  The  plan  was  dis- 
cussed in  another  sitting  of  the  Council,  at  which  the  First  Con- 
sul was  not  present.  He  presided  over  that  of  the  24th  of  the 
month.  lie  led  the  discussion  towards  the  drawing  up  and  mat- 
ters of  detail,  as  if  the  basis  had  been  adopted;  he  did  not  put  it 
to  the  vote,  and  all  at  once  proposed  the  question  whether  it  would 
be  proper  to  send  it  to  the  Legislative  Body,  considering  the  short 
time  the  session  had  to  last. 

Thibaudcau.  "  It  is  a  law  of  great  importance  and  a  system 
diametrically  opposed  to  the  principles  professed  during  the  Revo- 
lution. The  abolition  of  the  distinctions  of  rank  did  not  take 
place  in  those  disastrous  times  which  reflect  so  much  discredit 
even  on  the  best  things.  The  decree  was  passed  by  the  Constitu- 
ent. Assembly,  at  one  of  the  epochs  the  most  honorable  to  the 
Revolution.  The  nation,  ii  is  true,  is  profoundly  imbued  with 
the  sentiment  of  honor  ;  but  it  is  this  very  sentiment  that  renders 
the  idea  of  equality  above  all  things  dear  to  it.  It  was  those  two 
motives,  combined  with  the  love  of'  liberty,  of  independence,  and 
of  country,  that  led  the  first  armies  of  the  Republic  to  victory.  I 
am  not  convinced  that  with  the  Legion  of  Honor  they  would  have 
performed  Greater  things.  Considered  as  a  guarantee  for  the  Re- 
v  ilution,  the  plan  appears  to  me  to  militate  against  its  object  :  and 
as  an  intermediate  body,  to  flow  from  a  principle  inapplicable  to 
tenresentative   government.       I   am   afraid    lest    the   fondness  for 


COUNCIL   OF   STATE.  139 


ribbons  should  weaken  the  sentiments  of  duty  and  even  of  borer, 
instead  of  expanding  and  strengthening  them.  I  respect  the  rea- 
sons which  have  been  developed  in  the  course  of  the  discussion 
in  favor  of  the  project ;  they  are  imposing  ;  but  I  own  I  still  en- 
tertain some  doubts.  It  is  desirable  that  so  important  an  institu- 
tion should  not  be  established  without  the  assent,  well  pronounced 
and  understood,  of  the  principal  bodies  of  the  State  and  of  the 
nation.  The  session  of  the  Legislative  Body  will  end  in  two  or 
three  days  :  is  it  right  then  to  refer  to  it  just  now  the  project  of  a 
law  which  requires  the  most  serious  reflections  ?  I  think  not.  I 
foresee  that  it  will  meet  with  a  lively  opposition.  It  seems  to  me 
advisable  to  adjourn  the  question/'' 

Portalis,  Dumas.  Rcederer  opposed  the  adjournment:  the  First 
Consul  then  put  it  to  the  vote  ;  it  was  lost  by  fourteen  voices  against 
ten.  Lacuee,  Emmery,  Berlier,  Berenger,  Thibaudeau,  Jolivet, 
Defermon.  Octet,  and  Ileal  voted  for  the  adjournment  because  they 
were  against  the  project.  It  was  carried  up,  on  the  25th,  to  the 
Legislative  Body.  Rcederer  prefaced  it  with  a  brief  recapitula- 
tion of  the  objects.  lie  said,  "  It  is  an  institution  intended  in  aid 
of  all  the  laws  of  the  Republic,  and  which  should  serve  to  consoli- 
date the  Revolution.  It  confers  on  military  as  well  as  civil  ser- 
vices the  reward  of  patriotism  which  they  have  so  well  merited. 
It  blends  them  in  the  same  glory,  as  the  nation  docs  not  distin- 
guish thorn  in  its  gratitude.  By  a  common  distinction  it  unites 
men  already  united  by  honorable  recollections ;  it  opens  a  friendly 
intercourse  between  those  who  are  already  disposed  to  esteem  one 
another.  It  places  under  the  shelter  of  their  responsibility  and 
heir  oaths  the  laws  in  favor  of  equality,  liberty,  and  property. 
It  effaces  aristocratic  distinctions  which  placed  hereditary  ulorv 
before  that  which  was  acquired,  and  the  descendants  of  great  men 
b  'fire  the  great  men  themselves.  It  is  a  moral  distinction  which 
ad  is  force  and  activity  to  that  lever  of  honor  which  so  powerfully 
.mpels  the  French  nation.  It  is  a  politic  institution  which  estab 
li.shes  in  the  community  intermediate  bodies,  through  which  the 
acts  of  power  are  laid  before  public  opinion  with  fidelity  and  can- 
dor, and  through  which  public  opinion  can  reascend  t  >  instruct 
power.  It  is  a  military  institution  which  will  allure  into  the  army 
that  portion  of  the  youth  of  the  country,  which  otherwise  it  would 


110  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


perhaps  be  difficult  to  rouse  from  the  indolence  which  is  the  com- 
panion of  prosperous  circumstances.  Finally,  it  is  the  creation 
or'  a  new  species  of  money  of  a  very  different  value  from  that 
winch  issues  from  the  public  mint ;  a  money  of  which  the  stan- 
dard is  unimpeachable  and  the  mine  inexhaustible,  since  it  has 
its  source  in  the  national  honor;  a  money  which  can  alone  be- 
come  the  equivalent  of  actions  regarded  as  superior  to  all  other 
recompense.1' 

Lucien  Buonaparte,  as  reporter  to  the  commission  of  the  Tribu- 
nate, proposed  the  adoption  of  the  new  law.  Savoye-Rollin  com- 
bated it  in  a  discourse  full  of  sound  principles  and  facts,  and 
which  produced  a  strong  sensation.  Chauvelin  followed  up  the 
system  of  attack  by  a  declaration  equally  well  reasoned.  These 
were  the  principal  objections  :  That  the  Legion  of  Honor  contains 
in  itself  all  the  elements  on  which  hereditary  nobility  has  been 
founded  in  all  ages;  that  it  implies  exclusive  qualifications,  pow- 
ers, honors,  titles,  and  fixed  revenue  ;  that  nobility  lias  rarely 
commenced  with  so  many  advantages  ;  that  it  is  not  safe  to  rely  on 
the  progress  of  knowledge  and  the  difference  of  the  times,  the  hu- 
man heart  being  always  the  same  :  that  the  same  opportunities 
make  men  fall  into  the  same  errors  and  indulge  in  the  same  pro- 
pensities :  that  the  Legion  of  Honor  will  forthwith  revive  preju- 
dices but  half  extinguished,  and  received  in  all  the  rest  of  Europe, 
and  that  these  prejudices  will  serve  to  fortify  the  influence  of  the 
military  and  aristocratical  ideas  which  have  always  emanated 
from  it,  and  will  introduce  a  spirit  of  classes  instead  of  the  spirit 
of  the  public  good  ;  that  under  pretence  of  effacing  the  old  nobil- 
ity, the  Legion  of  Honor  will  originate  a  new  one  and  strongly 
reinforce  the  old  ;  that  as  an  intermediate  corps,  it  is  at  best  a 
superfluity,  intermediate  bodies  being  of  some  benefit  in  despotic 
states,  but  that  under  a  representative  government  and  among  a 
people  sufficiently  happy  to  enjoy  a  public  discussion  of  its  laws 
and  measures,  the  true  and  only  intermediate  bodies  between  the 
people  and  the  government  are  the  constituted  authorities;  in  a 
word  that  the  proposed  institution  is  contrary  to  the  spirit  and  prin. 
cipb  s  of  the  Republic,  and  to  the  letter  of  the  Constitution. 

Freviile  defended  the  project,  and  Lucien  Buonaparte  replied 
to  his  antagonists  with    a   great    deal    of  youthful    presumption. 


COUNCIL   OF   STATE.  141 

Confident  in  the  ties  which  attached  him  to  the  First  Consul,  he 
attributed  criminal  intentions  to  those  who  differed  with  him, 
charged  them  with  designs  against  the  Government,  spoke  of  the 
indignation  which  he  felt,  and  discharged  a  part  of  his  spleen  on 
the  nation  itself,  which  he  attempted  to  degrade  by  the  epithet 
pitiable.  The  indiscretion  of  the  speaker  raised  up  a  great  num- 
ber of  enemies  to  the  project.  It  was  carried  only  by  a  majority 
of  .16  voices  against  38. 

The  subject  was  brought  forward  in  the  Legislative  Body  ;  but 
there  it  met  with  no  opposition.  The  three  Government  orators, 
and  the  three  orators  of  the  Tribune,  charged  solely  to  defend  the 
project,  accumulated  every  possible  argument  and  excuse  in  its 
favor.  The  discussion  was  terminated  by  an  allusion  made  by 
Dumas  to  a  passage  of  the  Roman  History  relative  to  Marcus 
Claudius  Marcellus,  who  was  called  the  Sword  of  Home.  "  Well 
then,'"'  exclaimed  the  orator,  "  our  Marcellus,  our  Consul,  on  whom 
the  people  are  at  this  moment  about  to  confer  the  magistracy  for 
life,  he  who  protected  the  arts  and  sciences  in  the  midst  of  the 
horrors  of  war,  who  under  the  .wings  of  victory  made  them  rear 
their  heads  in  Egypt,  in  their  first  cradle,  whence  the  Greeks  and 
Archimedes  borrowed  them,  in  fine,  our  Sword  of  France  proposes 
it  to  you,  the  high-priests  of  the  law,  to  erect  a  double  temple  to 
honor  and  to  virtue."  The  said  pontiffs  voted  on  the  question  ; 
and  in  spite  of  all  that  eloquence  could  suggest  to  gain  their  suf- 
frages, the  Legion  of  Honor  was  sanctioned  only  by  169  voices 
against  110.  A  triumph  so  sharply  contested  and  hardly  ex- 
torted from  two  bodies  which  had  just  undrrgone  a  purification, 
did  not  greatly  flatter  the  First  Consul.  No  measure  of  the  Con- 
sulate  met  with  a  warmer  opposition.  One  of  the  Council  said  to 
him,  "You  see  that  those  among  the  Counsellors  of  State  who 
voted  for  the  adjournment  had  some  reason.  So  strong  an  op- 
position is  always  a  thing  to  be  avoided."  Ho  replied,  "True  ; 
it  would  have  been  better  to  have  waited.  Sufficient  time  was 
riot  given.  The  matter  was  not  so  urgent.  Besid<  s.  the  orators 
who  defended  the  measure  did  not  give  good  reason  for  it." 

The  grand  objection  that  might  be  made  to  the  institution  of  the 
Legion  of  Honor,  considered  not  as  a  mere  pretext  and  stepping- 
stone  to  the  re-establishment  of  hereditarv  nobility,  which  merges 


142  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 


'acquired  glory  in  that  which  is  borrowed,"  and  all  talent  and 
virtue  in  birth  and  rank,  but  as  a  kind  of  rival  to  this  and  an  or- 
der of  personal  merit,  is  that  there  can  be  no  order  of  personal 
merit.  1.  Titles  and  external  marks  of  distinction  should  be  con- 
fined to  represent  external  advantages  only  :  there  they  have  an 
appropiate  meaning  and  effect  (whether  good  or  bad,  is  another 
question).  A  coronet  on  a  coach  speaks  a  plain  and  intelligible 
language  ;  for  every  one  knows  by  this  that  the  ancestors  of  the 
person  who  owns  it  were  persons  of  rank  and  distinction  as  much 
as  the  carriage  itself  shows  that  he  is  rich.  But  there  can  be  no 
outward  and  visible  sign  of  an  inward  and  invisible  grace  ;  for 
the  question  of  real  desert  is  one  which  is  always  left  reserved  in 
the  human  breast,  and  a  bit  of  red  ribbon  in  the  button-hole  does 
not  alter  our  opinion  in  this  respect.  We  may  bow  down  to  the 
advantages  actually  possessed  by  others,  as  we  may  wish  that  we 
ourselves  had  them  ;  but  no  one  willingly  acknowledges  a  supe- 
riority in  personal  worth  over  himself  or  would  give  up  his  per- 
sonal identity,  however  gladly  he  might  change  places  with  an- 
other. Again,  a  man  may  wear  a.  medal  to  imply  that  he  was  in 
a  certain  battle,  or  a  particular  dress  to  show  he  belon.es  to  a  cer- 
tain society  or  profession — iJiut  is  specific  and  positive;  but  no 
man  can  wear  a  badge  which  says.  "  I  am  a  better  man  than  you 
who  do  not  wear  it  ;"'  for  this  is  a  thing  that  does  not  properly  ad- 
mit of  proof,  and  that  no  one  grants  as  a  voluntary  concession. 
As  a  mere  assumption  on  the  part  of  the  individual,  it  is  an  im- 
pertinence; as  a  license  from  government,  it  implies  a  degree  of 
servility  and  a  sense  of  inferiority  in  others  which  is  contrary  to 
the  principles  of  equality  and  reason.  Instead  of  thinking  more 
of  the  individuals  who  thus  court  distinction  without  any  thine  to 
warrant  it  (unlike  outward  expense  and  magnificence,  which 
corrv  their  credentials  along  with  them  and  impose  on  the  im- 
agination, if  not  on  the  understanding)  you  think  less  of  them; 
and  virtue  and  merit  are  in  the  end  reduced  to  a  piece  of  red  rib- 
bon, which  is  made  their  inadequate  symbol. 

If  a  man  of  merit  looks  meanly  in  the  street,  you  cannot  say 
to  the  passengers,  "  FLespi  ct  this  man  ;"  they  will  rather  learn  to 
desnise  personal  merit  which  is  not  corroborated  by  personal  ap- 
pearance.     It  is  a  translation  from  one  language  to  another  ;   and 


COUNCIL   OF   STATE.  143 

all  things  suffer  by  translation.  2.  It  is  true,  the  language  of 
signs,  according  to  Rousseau,  is  a  powerful  one  ;  but  it  has  more 
or  less  influence  according  to  times  and  circumstances,  and  the 
insisting  upon  it  in  preference  is  a  recurrence  to  the  ages  of  bar- 
barism. The  natural  tendency  of  the  human  mind  is  (as  already 
observed)  from  the  concrete  to  the  abstract.  Who  would  now 
resort  to  the  Egyptian  hieroglyphics,  though  these  might  have 
had  their  advantages?  The  streets  of  Paris  and  London  were  at 
one  time  stuffed  with  signs  over  every  shop-door,  which  are  now 
taken  down  by  common  consent.  They  were  useful  and  even 
necessary  when  scarcely  any  one  could  read,  and  must  have  af- 
forded great  delight  and  amusement  to  the  imagination,  before  the 
progress  of  the  fine  arts  had  improved  and  directed  the  public 
taste.  So  a  higher  and  more  abstracted  standard  of  morals  and 
of  personal  merit,  connected  with  the  progress  of  knowledge  and 
inquiry,  supersedes  the  use  and  value  of  personal  badges,  and  of 
a  more  gross  and  material  language.  A  nobleman  or  gentleman 
was  right  in  wearing  a  sword  and  an  embroidered  dress  when 
from  the  coarseness  of  manners  he  was  liable  to  be  jostled  or 
knocked  down  without  it  ;  but  the  police  has  removed  the  danger 
of  this,  and  he  now  aims  at  distinction  by  other  means  than  the 
mere  admiration  which  his  own  finery  or  the  rich  livery  of  his 
footmen  might  excite.  As  a  change  has  taken  place  in  the  art  of 
war,  by  which  skill  and  science  have  prevailed  over  biute  force, 
and  the  mind  over  the  body,  so  a  proportionable  change  has  taken 
place  in  the  intercourse  of  peace,  by  which  conversation  and  be- 
havior are  more  sought  after  than  dress  and  equipage.  To  re- 
vert to  the  old-fashioned  tinsel  and  Gothic  forms  is  to  tread  back 
our  steps  instead  of  advancing  with  the  spirit  of  the  age.  There 
is  no  occasion  to  affect  distinction  by  slovenliness  and  indecency 
as  in  the  times  of  sansculotlism  ;  but  neither  will  external  frippery 
and  an  appeal  to  the  senses  ever  regain  their  influence  in  the 
eves  of  others,  unless  they  were  as  formerly  the  sole  proofs  of 
intelligence  or  power,  and  were  seconded  as  formerly  by  the  feai 
and  ignorance  of  the  multitude.  3.  It  is  drawing  a  line  where 
none  can  properly  be  drawn.  Buonaparte  was  blamed  for  giv- 
ing the  cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  to  Crescentini  the  singer. 
But  was  the  exclusion  to  extend  to  musical  comDOsers  as  well  as 


144  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

singers,  to  poets  as  well  as  players  ?  There  could  be  no  rule 
laid  down  in  the  case.  What  depends  on  opinion  must  be  left  to 
opinion,  the  only  scale  fine  enough  to  weigh  the  fluctuating  and 
evanescent  pretensions  to  public  favor.  It  is  true,  the  theatrical 
profession  labors  under  an  unjust  stigma  in  France,  having  of  old 
incurred  the  odium  thcologicum ;  and  Buonaparte  wished  tore- 
move  this  stigma,  and  to  give  it  a  place  in  public  estimation  cor- 
responding to  that  which  it  holds  in  public  admiration.  There 
was  an  evident  and  ill-natured  discordancy  which  he  wished  to 
do  away  with.  But  he  could  not  do  it.  The  Legion  of  Honor 
would  only  have  got  laughed  at  if  he  had  persisted  in  the  at- 
tempt:  there  is  no  forcing  opinion.  Honor  can  only  be  the  echo 
of  opinion  :  or  the  utmost  that  it  can  do  is  to  lend  its  stamp  to  fu- 
gitive esteem,  to  the  dictates  of  prejudice  or  the  accidents  of  for- 
tune, which  instead  of  being  confirmed  and  sanctioned  by  au- 
thority, ought  to  be  corrected  and  effaced  by  time  and  reason. — 
The  whole  is  false  mathematics,  an  attempt  to  square  the  circle. 
Buonaparte  wished  however  to  model  this  institution  on  as  broad 
and  liberal  a  scale  as  possible  ;  and  what  he  says  on  the  subject 
in  another  place  shows  equal  sense  and  feeling. 

'•  No  comedian  ever  received  the  decoration  of  the  Legion  of 
Honor.  Are  Gretry,  Paesiello,  Mchul,  and  Le  Sueur,  our  most 
celebrated  composers,  to  be  compared  to  singers  ?  Must  the  pro- 
scription be  extended  to  David,  Gros,  Vernet,  Renaud,  and  Ro- 
bert Lefebre,  our  most  eminent  painters  :  and  even  to  Lagrange, 
La  Place,  Berthollet,  Monge,  Vauquelin,  Chaptal,  Guvton  de 
Morveau,  Jouy,  Baour  Lormian,  Fontanes,  Sismondi,  and  Guin- 
guene  ?  The  French  soldier  must  entertain  sentiments  highly 
unworthy  of  him,  before  a  decoration  worn  by  such  men  can  on 
that  account  lose  any  part  of  its  value  in  his  eves.  If  the  Legion 
of  Honor  were  not  the  recompense  of  civil  as  well  as  military 
servici  s,  it  would  cease  to  be  the  Legion  of  Honor.  It  would  be 
a  strange  piece  of  presumption  indeed  in  the  military,  to  pretend 
that  honors  should  be  paid  to  them  onlv.  Soldiers  who  knew 
nr't  how  to  read  or  write,  were  proud  of  wearing,  in  recompense 
for  the  blood  they  had  shed,  the  same  decoration  as  was  given  to 
distinguished  talents  in  civil  life  :  and  on  the  other  hand,  the  lat- 
'er  attached   a  greater    value   to   this   reward  of  their  labors,  be- 


COUNCIL   OF   STATE  43 

cause  it  was  the  reward  of  the  brave.  But  then  Crescentini  ? 
It  is  true  that  in  a  moment  of  enthusiasm,  just  after  hearing  the 
fine  scenes  of  Romeo  and  Juliet,  the  Emperor  gave  him  the  cross 
of  the  Iron  Crown.  Crescentini,  however,  was  of  good  birth  ; 
he  belonged  to  the  worthy  citizens  of  Bologna,  a  city  so  dear  to 
Napoleon's  heart.  lie  thought  it  would  please  the  Italians,  but 
was  mistaken  ;  ridicule  attacked  the  transaction  :  had  it  been  ap- 
proved by  public  opinion,  he  would  have  given  the  cross  of  the 
Legion  of  Honor  to  Talma,  St.  Prix,  Fleury,  Grandmcnil,  Lair,, 
Gardel,  and  Elleviou  :  he  refrained  from  doing  so  out  of  conside- 
ration for  the  weakness  and  prejudices  of  the  age,  and  he  was  in 
the  wrong.  The  Legion  of  Honor  was  the  reversion  of  every 
one  who  was  an  honor  to  his  country,  stood  at  the  head  of  his 
profession,  and  contributed  to  the  national  prosperity  and  glory. 
Some  officers  were  dissatisfied,  because  the  decoration  of  the  Le- 
gion of  Honor  was  alike  for  officers  and  soldiers.  But  if  ever  it 
cease  to  be  the  recompense  of  the  lowest  class  of  the  military, 
and  a  medal  be  instituted  through  aristocratical  feelings  to  reward 
the  mere  soldier,  or  if  ever  the  civil  order  be  deprived  of  it,  it 
will  cease  to  be  the  Legion  of  Honor. " 

VOL.  II.  8  13 


46  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 


COLOMES ADOPTION,  ETC. 


The  Council  of  State  had  to  discuss  a  project  for  establishing 
u  board  of  agriculture  in  the  West  India  Colonies.  Truguet  op- 
posed the  plan  as  dangerous.  "It  is  the  colonists,"  he  observed, 
"  who  have  occasioned  all  the  trouble  in  the  colonies :  it  is  ne- 
cessary to  govern  them  with  severity  and  vigor.  Cultivation  will 
gain  nothing  by  these  boards,  but  they  will  harass  the  agents  of 
Government.'*' 

The  First  Consul. — "  Every  establishment  under  a  feeble  Go- 
vernment is  liable  to  become  dangerous  ;  but  it  is  to  be  recol- 
lected that  the  colonists  are  French  :  they  have  the  same  charac- 
ter and  sense  of  their  rights  ;  they  cannot  be  treated  as  slaves. 
It  would  be  necessarv  for  that  purpose  to  deprive  them  of  the 
privilege  of  speaking,  thinking,  and  writing.  They  have  no  re- 
presentatives in  the  Legislature  ;  the  Constitution  with  just  rea- 
son disallows  of  it :  at  least  then  they  ou;rht  to  have  some  means 
of  appealing  to  the  Government,  of  making  known  their  wants,  and 
of  stating  their  grievances.  If  a  plan  can  be  pointed  out,  which 
gives  less  importance  to  the  colonists,  I  am  willing  to  adopt  it; 
but  I  do  not  sen  bow  it  is  possible  to  contrive  one  with  less  in- 
fluence, ami  that  is  perhaps  its  fault.  Doubtless,  it  is  proper  to 
govern  the  colonies  with  energy  ;  but  there  is  no  energy  without 
justice.  To  this  end  it  is  indispensable  that  the  Government 
should  be  informed  of  every  thing,  and  that  it  should  hear  the 
parties  concerned  :  i'>v  it  is  not  sufficient  to  be  just,  merely  to  do 
good  ;  it  is  still  farther  necessary  that  the  governed  should  be 
convinced  of  this,  and  they  cannot  be  s  i  unless  thev  have  the 
means  of  making  themselves  heard.  Even  were  the  Council  of 
State  composed  of  angels  or  of  Gods,  who  could  see  with  the  first 
glance  of  the   eye  what    "--as    best  to  bo  done,  it   would    signify 


COLONIES,   ADOPTION,   ETC.  14/ 

nothing  unless  the  colonists  had  the  conviction  of  having  had  tneir 
statements  duly  attended  to.*  Strength  is  also  founded  on  opin- 
ion. It  is  principally  in  this  point  of  view  that  the  proposed  estab- 
lishment is  necessary.  There  is  at  present  no  medium  of  com- 
munication between  France  and  her  colonies :  the  most  absurd 
reports  are  circulated  there  ;  the  true  principles  of  (he  Govern- 
ment, so  far  from  being  properly  understood,  are  burlesqued  in 
every  account  of  them.  This  is  because  those  of  the  colonists 
who  are  in  Paris  are  forced  to  collect  their  information  in  ante- 
chambers, or  from  the  enemies  of  the  Government,  or  in  society 
which  has  no  connexion  with  it.  If,  on  the  contrary,  there  were 
established  here,  under  the  eye  of  the  Government,  a  sort  of  colo- 
nial association,  it  would  learn  the  truth,  would  repeat  it,  and 
write  word  of  it  home.  It  is  then  a  channel  of  information  that 
we  want  to  open  with  them.  The  citizen  Serres  has  committed 
outrages,  unheard-of  oppressions  at  Senegal  ;  some  of  those  ban- 
ished there  have  revolted  against  him.  I  shall  have  them  tried, 
because  they  ought  to  know  that  their  first  duly  is  obedience  to 
the  authority  of  the  mother-country  ;  but  I  shall  have  him  tried 
also,  for  it  was  his  to  make  it  respected.  If  there  had  been  here 
a  deputy  from  Senegal,  or  a  board  of  commissioners,  this  man 
would  have  been  more  on  his  guard,  and  would  have  conducted 
himself  better.  It  is  said,  '■  Choose  your  agents  bitter:''  but  the 
citizen  Serres  enjoyed  a  good  reputation  before  this  ;  it  was  power 
that  turned  his  head.  Besides,  it  is  not  simply  with  a  view  to 
keep  a  check  on  the  agents  of  Government  that  the  plan  is  good; 
it  is  also  of  use  to  defend  them  from  calumny.  A  thousand  stories 
have  been  told  of  this  poor  General  Dugua  ;  he  had,  they  said, 
encouraged  the  negroes  to  insurrection  ;  there  is  not  a  person  who 
has  not  heard  the  most  violent  accusations  against  him.  Now,  if 
there  was  any  charge  against  him,  it  was  that  of  having  treated 
them  with  too  much  harshness.  In  spite  of  all  I  could  do  to  put 
a  stop  to  the  calumny,  it  has  not  been  the  less  eagerly  circulated 
against  an  unfortunate  man,  who  devoted  himself  to  destruction 
bv  this  means.  An  agent  of  Government,  urged  by  necessity, 
makes  some  relaxations  in   the   laws   of  the   customs,  and   sutlers 

*  A  finer  or  more  liberal  definition  of  justice,  or  of  what  governmeuta 
owe  to  the  people,  surely  never  was  given. 


148  LIFE   OF   XAPOLEOX. 

foreign  flour  to  be  introduced  into  the  colonies ;  instantly  he  is  de- 
nounced by  the  inhabitants  of  Nantes  and  Bordeaux  as  a  corrupt 
officer,  a  man  sold  to  the  views  of  the  enemy,  and  yet  it  is  neces- 
sity and  the  welfare  of  the  colony  that  have  determined  him  to  act 
in  the  manner  he  has  done.  Do  you  imagine  in  such  a  case,  that 
if  there  were  deputies  from  the  colonies  near  at  hand,  they  would 
not  be  eager  to  point  out  the  truth  and  to  defend  the  men  who  had 
rendered  an  important  service  to  their  country?  The  colonists 
and  the  merchants  have  interests  always  opposed  to  each  other. 
When  it  is  in  agitation  to  establish  a  certain  tax  on  the  produce 
of  the  colonies,  all  the  boards  of  commerce  send  in  their  memo- 
rials, and  no  one  watches  to  defend  the  interests  of  the  colonies. 
The  law  arrivi  s  there  armed  with  all  its  rigor,  without  any  one's 
being  at  the  pains  to  explain  the  motives  to  the  colonists  or  to  give 
them  an  assurance  that  every  circumstance  has  been  duly  weighed. 
I  am  aware  that  we  keep  the  colonies  for  the  sake  of  commerce, 
for  the  advantage  of  the  mother-country  ;  but  at  the  same  time, 
the  colonists  themselves  are  Frenchmen,  are  brothers;  they  con- 
tribute to  the  support  of  the  state,  they  have  interests  of  their  own 
to  defend,  and  the  least  we  can  do  for  them  is  to  allow  them  this 
imperfect  means  of  letting  us  know  their  sentiments  as  to  what 
those  interests  are." 

Truguet. — •'  It  would  at  any  rate  be  best  to  postpone  the  plan  ; 
the  moment  is  unfavorable." 

The  First  Consul  objected  to  the  adjournment,  and  added  : 
"People  suppose  that  the  colonists  are  on  the  side  of  the  English  ; 
but  I  can  say  that  at  Martinique  there  are  the  best-disposed  citi- 
zens. The  partisans  of  the  English  are  well  known  ;  thev  are 
far  from  numerous.  So  when  they  sent  M.  Dubuc  here,  thev 
wrote  to  inform  me  that  he  was  a  friend  of  the  English.  The 
agents  of  the  Government  have  been  received  with  the  greatest 
enthusiasm  by  the  inhabitants.1' 

Tnnjtirt. — ■•  Xot  by  the  greater  number." 

The  First  Consul,  (growing  warm.) — i:See  how  things  are  inis- 

repi-'  s<%nted  !      There  are  persons  who  are  determined  to  find  only 

us  of  the  English  in  the  colonies,   in   order  that  thev  may 

nave  a  pretext  to  oppress  them.      Wi  11.  M.  Truguet,  if  you  had 

come  into   Egypt   to   preach   up   the    freedom    of   the    negroes  or 


COLONIES,   ADOPTION,  ETC.  149 

Arabs,  we  should  have  hung  you  up  at  the  mast-head.  It  has  been 
so  contrived,  that  all  the  whites  should  be  delivered  over  to  the 
ferocity  of  the  blacks,  and  yet  it  is  thought  strange  that  they 
should  be  dissatisfied.  Well  then,  had  I  been  at  Martinique,  I 
should  also  have  been  on  the  side  of  the  English,  because  above 
all  things  it  is  necessary  to  save  one's  life.  I  am  for  the  whites, 
because  1  am  white;  1  have  no  other  reason,  yet  that  is  reason 
good  enough.  How  was  it  possible  to  grant  liberty  to  the  Afri- 
cans, to  men  without  any  kind  of  civilization,  who  did  not  even 
know  what  a  colony  meant,  or  that  there  was  such  a  place 
as  France  ]  It  is  quite  evident,  that  those  who  proposed  the 
emancipation  of  the  blacks  must  wish  for  the  slavery  of  the 
whites;  but  after  all,  do  you  suppose  that  if  the  majority  of  the 
Convention  had  seen  what  they  were  doing  and  been  acquainted 
with  the  colonies,  they  would  have  persisted  in  granting  freedom 
to  the  negroes  ?  Doubtless  not ;  but  ?v\v  persons  were  in  a  situa- 
tion to  foresee  the  consequences  at  the  time,  and  a  sentiment  of 
humanity  always  appeals  powerfully  to  the  imagination.  But  at 
present,  for  any  one  to  persist  in  these  principles,  is  to  show  a 
want  of  good  faith  ;  it  is  mere  pride  and  hypocrisy.  Without 
going  so  far,  would  you  have  consented,  would  you  have  suffered, 
that  the  French  should  have  been  brought  in  subjection  to  the 
Italians,  to  the  Piedmontese  ?  We  might  have  been  well  treated  ; 
they  might  have  made  of  us  what  the  blacks  have  made  of  the 
whites.  We  have  been  obliged,  on  the  contrary,  to  take  strong 
measures  of  precaution,  and  to  keep  them  in  a  state  of  dependence; 
and  even  had  it  been  necessary  to  let  all  Italy  perish  or  sacrifice 
two  soldiers  of  my  army,  I  would  have  let  all  Italy  perish  ;  because 
before  all  things,  I  am  of  my  army  and  for  my  army.  To  this  day 
even  it  is  necessary  to  have  ai>  eye  on  that  country  ;  nevertheless 
they  are  whites  like  us.  a  civilized  people,  and  our  neighbors." 

Perhaps  there  is  not  anyv'here  on  record,  and  particularly 
coming  out  of  the  person's  ov>  n  mouth,  a  passage  which  paints  so 
powerful Iv,  with  such  nakedness  and  force,  not  merely  the  char- 
acter but  the  inmost  soul  and  extremity  of  purpose  in  an  individ- 
ual, as  the  one  just  given.  xt  would  be  as  much  in  vain  to  reason 
with  a  man  whose  mind  is  devoured  and  burnt  up  with  his  un- 
quenchable zeal  of  partisanship,  as  to  insist  that  a  person  is  cot 


150  LIFE   OF    NAPOLEON. 

to  writhe  with  pain  who  lias  a  living  coal  of  fire  applied  to  hi& 
breast.  We  see  a  soul  of  fire  without  water  or  clay,  that  nothing 
could  tame,  could  softi  n,  or  deter.  It  is  not  a  question  of  degree, 
but  a  total  separation  in  principle  and  an  antipathy  in  nature  to 
the  ordinary  and  cherished  weaknesses  of  human  nature ;  so 
that  no  extreme  case  or  disproportion  in  the  objects  could  make 
any  difference  on  a  mind  that  had  a  capacity  but  for  one  class  and 
modification  of  feeling.  In  this  one  passage  he  has  given  a  clue 
(radiant  with  light)  to  all  his  actions,  to  all  his  greatness  and  his 
littleness,  his  elevation  and  his  fall,  without  resorting  to  studied 
policy,  to  accident,  or  the  advice  of  friends.  Buonaparte  need 
not  talk  of  Arabs  or  uncivilized  nations;  he  is  himself  one  of 
them.  No  wild  Indian  could  brood  over  in  his  hut  or  make  a  tri- 
umphant boast  at  the  stake  of  a  more  utter  abnegation  of  all  the 
mawkishness  of  general  benevolence  ;  nor  snap  with  less  ceremony 
or  firmer  nerves  all  the  ties  but  those  which  bind  him  to  his  tribe 
and  link  him  in  a  chain  of  sordid  interest  with  others  with  whom 
he  is  knit  in  a  common  cause,  and  who  are  ready  to  stand  by  him 
in  like  manner.  No  son  of  the  Desert,  whose  feelings  have  been 
burnt  into  him  by  a  scorching  sun,  who  is  hardened  against  com- 
punction by  tin;  extremity  of  want,  who  recognizes  only  in  the 
stranger  or  in  his  fellow-man  a  deadly  foe  whose  existence  is  at 
war  with  his  own  and  that  of  all  belonging  to  him,  could  express 
a  more  determined  disbelief  in  and  contempt  for  all  the  decencies, 
chanties,  and  professed  courtesies  of  general  philanthropy  as 
mere  names  and  shadows. 

The  tendency  of  civilization  and  intellectual  intercourse  Las 
been  to  extend  the  circle  of  sympathy  with  the  circle  of  know- 
ledge, to  hurst  the  barriers  of  tribe,  nation,  and  color,  and  to  ex- 
tort the  confession  that  wherever  there  was  a  kindred  feeling, 
there  was  a  claim  to  pity,  to  justice,  and  humanity.  Thus  "  we 
S"0  a  softness  coming  over  the  heart,  and  the  iron  scales  of  ambi- 
tion that  fenced  and  guarded  it  melt  and  drop  off."  "A  negro 
las  a  soul,  an'  please  your  honor,"  said  the  Corporal,  doubtingly? 
'•  1  am  no  great  casuist,  Trim,"  replied  my  uncle  Toby,  "  but 
I  suppose  that  God  Almighty  would  not  leave  him  without  one, 
any  more  than  thee  or  me."  This  is  one  of  those  glancing 
strokes  of  the  pen  which  first  served  to  throw  a  golden  streak  of 


COLONIES,   ADOPTION,   &c  151 

light  over  this  dark  subject.    If  pleasure  and  pain,  good  and  evil 
were  black  and  white,  then  justice  and  injustice,  right  and  wrong 
might  depend   on   this  distinction.      But  old  Fuller's  quaint  rhet- 
oric contains  a  better  moral  when  he  calls  the  negroes  "the  im- 
ages of  God  carved  in  ebony."    The  hand  does  not  feel  pain  the  less 
because  it  is  black  ?    Why  then  should  it  feel  it  the  more  because 
it  is  black,  which  does  not  alter  the  essence  of  the  question  ?    But 
it  is  not  like  mine,  which  is  white  !     By  what  law  of  nature  is  it 
b  mnd  to  be  like  it,  except  to  the  ignorant  and   prejudiced  ;   who, 
knowing  of  no  other  color,  could  not  believe  the  existence  of  any 
other  ;  and  wondering  to  find  that  such  people  existed,  and  struck 
with  the  difference,  required  two  hundred   years  more  to  look 
upon  them  as  human  beings  ?     If  our  progress  in  this  respect  is 
slow,  difficult  and  imperfect,  that  is  no  reason  why,  by  a  sudden 
revulsion,  we  should  undo  all  that  has  been  done,  and  undermine 
the  very  foundation  and  principles  by  which  any  future  progress 
can  be  made.     This  is  indeed  shutting  our  eyes  and  leaping  into 
the  dark  gulf  of  wilfulness  and  barbarism.      How  far  the  negroes 
might  be  humanely  treated   and   made    tolerably  comfortable,   in 
contradiction  to  the  principles  by  which  they  are  kept  in  slavery, 
I  shall  not  dispute  ;  but  I  am  sure  that  they  must  be  as  ill-treated 
as  possible  under  the  sway  of  that  hard  code,  which   strips  them 
of  all  title  to  charity  because  they  are  black.     Why  is  it  assumed 
that  the  negroes  are  incapable  of  civilization  ?     They  arc  capable 
of  being  taught  to  wait  at  table,  to  ride  behind    a   coach,  to  cook, 
to   play   on   the   fiddle  ;    why  then   are  they  not  capable  of  being 
taught  to  work  out  of  doors  as  common  laborers?     There  is  no 
reason  given.      If  it  is  determined   to   keep  them  slaves  by  force, 
then  they  have  but  one  way  to  become  free,  that  is,  by  extermi- 
nating their  masters.     Nothing  shall  persuade  me  that  a  slave  is 
not   at  least  a  more  respectable  character  than   a   slave-driver. 
Why  should  the  French  keep  the  Italians   in   subjection  ?      Why 
lav  down  this  alternative  as  necessary  ?      It  is  the  way  to  be  sub. 
pcted   yourself.      True   patriotism  warrants  no  conclusion   con- 
trary to  liberty  or  humanity.      What  were  the    French   to   Napo- 
leon ?      France  was   his   adopted    country.      No  one   can   feel  a 
natural  or  blind  attachment  to  thirty  millions  of  people.     France, 
England   is   a  mere  name,  a  geographical  or  political  denomina 


153  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

tion,  to  which  we  are  hound  only  by  moral  and  rational  ties,  as  a 
part  of  the  great  society  of  mankind,  whose  welfare,  whose  lib- 
erty, whose  existence  we  are  sworn  to  defend  against  the  unjust 
aggressions  or  encroachments  of  every  other  part,  but  not  to  sac- 
rifice the  whole  to  it.  Why  should  Buonaparte  put  the  question 
of  sacrificing  the  lives  of  two  of  his  soldiers  or  letting  all  Italy 
perish  1  This  is  an  extreme  case  indeed,  but  it  shows  the  ex- 
tremity of  will  and  character  in  the  speaker,  and  is  so  far  inval- 
uable. If  all  Italy  could  not  weigh  clown  two  lives,  each  Italian 
life  must  be  worth  nothing,  a  mere  cipher,  or  it  would  mount  up 
in  such  a  sum.  Adam  Smith  has  observed,  with  the  spirit  and 
candor  of  a  philosopher,  that  perhaps  a  pain  in  the  little  finger 
would  vex  a  person  more  than  the  hearing  of  the  death  of  a  mil- 
lion of  men  in  China  by  famine  or  otherwise,  and  that  this  is 
mere  infirmity  ;  but  that  if  it  were  proposed  to  any  one  having  it 
in  his  power  whether  he  should  feel  a  slight  pain  in  his  finger  or 
a  million  of  men  should  perish  of  hunger,  a  man  would  be  a 
villain  who  should  prefer  the  latter.  Buonaparte  seemed  to 
think  that  the  dictates  of  his  will  were  to  outweigh  those  of  com- 
mon sense  and  feeling  ;  and  that  he  was  to  act  with  rigid 
stoicism  on  the  bare  calculations  of  self-interest,  as  if  they  had 
been  the  severe  deductions  of  reason  and  philosophy. 

There  is  the  same  extraordinary  tenacity  of  purpose  and  incor- 
rigible determination  to  subject  the  reason  and  nature  of  things  to 
mere  arbitrarv  will  discernible  in  the  discussions  which  occurred 
in  the  Council  of  State  relative  to  the  law  of  adoption.  We  can 
hardly  have  a  complete  understanding  of  Buonaparte's  character, 
without  turning  to  them  ;  and  they  will  be  useful  in  more  than 
one  point  of  view. 

The  First  Consul.  '■  The  citizen  Tronchet.  in  rejecting  the 
principle  of  adoption,  has  cited  the  Romans;  yet  it  took  place 
among  them  in  their  Comitia.  in  presence  of  the  whole  people. 
The  citizen  Portal  is  has  also  said  that  wills  were  made  before  the 
Roman  people.  The  reason  of  which  is,  that  these  acts  were 
derogatorv  to  the  rights  of  families  and  the  order  of  succession. 
The  objection  drawn  from  our  Constitution  is  not  well-founded. 
Whatever  is  not  expressly  prohibited  by  it  is  permitted.  Adop- 
tion is   neither  a  civil  contract  nor  a  judicial    act.      What  is  it 


COLONIES,   ADOPTION,   &c.  153 

then?  An  imitation  by  which  society  strives  to  ape  nature.  It 
is  a  kind  of  new  sacrament;  for  I  cannot  find  in  the  language 
any  word  that  exactly  defines  its  nature.  The  child  of  the  blood 
and  of  the  hone  passes  (so  to  speak)  hy  the  volition  of  the  commu- 
nity into  the  blood  and  the  bones  of  another.  It  is  the  loftiest  act 
that  can  be  imagined.  It  inspires  the  sentiments  of  a  son  into 
him  who  had  them  not,  and  reciprocally  teaches  those  of  a  father. 
Whence  then  ought  this  act  to  proceed  ?  From  on  high,  like  the 
thunderbolt.  You  are  not  the  son  of  such  a  one,  says  the  Legis- 
lative Body  ;  nevertheless,  you  shall  have  the  same  sentiments  as 
if  you  were.  One  cannot  then  raise  one's-self  too  high  for  such 
an  operation.  It  is  feared  that  in  this  manner  the  use  of  adoption 
should  be  too  much  limited  ;  but  we  thereby  honor  it.  Neither 
is  it  necessary  that  the  legislature  should  enter  into  the  details  of 
each  case  ;  but  as  a  high-priest,  it  comes  forward  to  impart  the 
sacred  character.  Suppose  disputes  to  arise  between  the  natural 
son  and  the  son  by  adoption.  The  last  will  reply  :  It  is  the  same 
authority  which  has  established  the  marriage  from  which  you 
proceed  ;  it  is  the  law  itself  which  has  made  me  your  brother. 
An  objection  has  been  started  to  the  revocability  of  adoption  ;  but 
I  would  not  have  it  revocable.  Divorce  is  cited  as  a  parallel 
case.  How  can  any  one  compare  that  which  dissolves  with  that 
which  creates  ?  When  the  State  has  pronounced  the  adoption  to 
have  taken  place,  surely  it  is  not  possible  to  think  of  permitting 
it  to  be  recalled.  It  would  be  different  if  it  originally  emanated 
from  a  court  of  justice.  It  would  be  then  not  more  than  a  sen- 
tence passed.  When  the  father  wished  to  remonstrate  with  the 
adopted  son,  the  latter  might  say  :  You  are  not  my  father  !  The 
adopted  might  also  abuse  the  secrets  of  the  affairs  or  of  the  feel- 
ings of  the  adopter.      No,  it  is  not  to  lie  admitted." 

Tronchet  maintained  the  opinion  of  the  First  Consul;  Roederer 
combated  it.  "  It  is,"  said  he,  "more  especially  for  the  poorer 
classes  that  adoption  is  of  use  ;  lor  the  laborer,  for  instance,  who 
adopt-;  the  infant  that  the  administration  of  the  hospitals  has  en. 
trusted  to  his  care.  The  First  Consul  aims  at  giving  the  institu- 
tion too  elevated  a  character.  The  laboring  man  will  not  feel 
this,  but  on  the  contrary  will  be  deterred  by  it." 

The  First   Consul.      "  The    imagination    must    be    powerfullv 
8* 


i£>4  LIFE   OF   XAPOLEOX. 

affected.  If  there  are  differences  between  the  natural  and  the 
adoptive  father,  if  embarked  in  the  same  boat,  they  are  threatened 
with  imminent  danger,  the  son  ought  to  save  his  adoptive  father. 
There  is  nothing  but  the  will  of  the  sovereign  that  can  impress 
this  sentiment.  The  Legislative  Body  must  not  pronounce  in 
this  case  as  it  does  in  questions  of  property,  of  imposts,  but  as  the 
high-priest  of  morality  and  the  head  of  a  sacred  institution.  The 
vice  of  our  modern  legislators  is  to  have  nothing  that  speaks  to  the 
imagination.  It  is  not  possible  to  govern  man  except  by  it;  with- 
out imagination  he  is  no  better  than  a  brute-beast.  If  the  priests 
were  to  establish  adoption,  they  would  make  an  imposing  cere- 
mony of  it.  It  is  a  mistake  to  govern  men  like  machines.  The 
whole  society  must  interfere  here.  Your  system  leads  to  the  re- 
vocability  of  adoption." 

The  Minister  of  Justice.  "  The  Legislative  Body  will  only 
sanction  ;  for  the  consent  of  the  parties  is  sufficient  for  the  con- 
tract/'" 

The  First  Consul.  "  There  is  no  contract  with  a  minor.  A 
contract  implies  onlv  geometrical  obligations,  it  has  nothing  to  do 
with  sentiment.  Insert  the  word  heir  in  vour  law,  and  so  let  the 
question  rest.  Heir  carries  along  with  it  none  but  geometrical 
ideas  :  adoption,  on  tin''  contrary,  involves  the  ideas  of  institutions, 
of  morality  and  sentiment.  Analysis  leads  to  results  the  most 
false  and  vicious.  It  is  not  tor  five  sous  a  day,  for  a  paltry  dis- 
tinction, that  men  go  to  be  killed  ;  it  is  by  speaking  to  the  soul 
that  the  will  is  electrified.  It  is  not  the  notary  who  will  produce 
this  effect  for  the  twelve  francs  that  we  pay  him.  The  Council 
do  not  treat  the  questi  m  properly,  they  make  it  an  affair  of  geom- 
etry :  they  view  it  as  framers  of  the  law,  and  not  as  statesmen. 
'In''  imagination  should  consider  adoption  as  a  resource  amidst 
the  misfortunes  of  life.  1  put  the  question  to  the  reporter,  what 
diffcri  nee  there  is  between  the  heir  and  the  ad  >ptivo  child  V 

B>  rlii-r.  "In  order  to  reply  to  this  question,  one  must  first 
<i  trie  the  nature  and  effects  of  the  kind  of  adoption  which  it  is 
proposed  to  establish,  otherwise  the  means  of'  comparison  are 
wanting;  but  according  to  my  ideas,  the  legal  heir,  or  heir  by 
blood,  is  tothp  adopted  one,  what  the  reality  is  tc  the  fiction,  saving 


COLONIES,   ADOPTION,   ETC.  155 

the  modifications  to  be  introduced  into  their  respective  rights  and 
duties." 

The  First  Consul.  "  Should  the  real  father  of  the  adopted  be- 
come rich,  then  the  latter  would  abandon  his  adoptive  father.  He 
ought  to  be  allied  to  him  for  ever,  otherwise  he  is  no  more  than 
the  heir.  What  holds  the  place  of  the  Deity  on  the  earth  1  The 
legislature.  Who  is  the  son  of  his  father  ?  No  one  knows  for 
certain.  It  is  the  will  of  the  legislature  which  decides.  The 
adopted  son  ought  to  be  like  that  of  the  flesh  and  bone.  If  there 
is  the  smallest  difference  admitted,  you  are  wide  of  your  object,  or 
I  understand  nothing  of  the  matter." 

Any  thing  more  strikingly  characteristic  than  this  is  not  to  be 
found  recorded  in  the  pages  of  history  or  fiction.  No  dramatic 
author,  with  all  the  license  of  his  art,  with  all  the  desire  to  pro- 
duce effect,  and  all  the  genius  and  knowledge  of  nature  to  do  so, 
ever  worked  up  an  ideal  character  to  a  pitch  of  greater  extrava. 
gance  and  at  the  same  time  more  consistent  regularity  than  this. 
Buonaparte,  in  default  of  natural  issue  of  his  own,  wished  to 
adopt  one  of  his  brother's  children  as  his  own,  and  in  establishing 
a  law  to  make  them  equal,  exercises  a  power  of  volition  that 
overturns  every  obstacle  that  stands  in  its  way.  The  wishing 
the  adopted  child  to  stand  in  as  near  a  relation  to  the  parent  as 
the  natural,  and  his  reasonings  to  make  it  appear  that  this  is  pos- 
sible, amount  to  the  acuteness  and  perversity  of  frenzy.  To 
effect  a  favorite  purpose  he  clothes  law  with  omnipotence,  makes 
it  able  to  create  what  nature  has  refused  to  do,  and  to  reconcile  a 
contradiction  in  terms.  It  would  be  as  rational  to  pass  a  law  to 
make  the  barren  breed,  or  to  transform  a  marble  statue  into  a 
living  being,  and  to  expect  it  to  feel  towards  you  the  sentiments 
of  filial  piety,  or  to  inspire  a  corresponding  affection  towards  it, 
as  to  impress  this  character  by  mere  force  of  words  on  a  being 
that  lias  it  not  by  natural  relation.  It  is  true,  law  makes  a  differ- 
ence in  natural  children,  that  is,  requires  other  moral  and  arti- 
ficial conditions  before  it  adds  its  highest  sanction  ;  but  to  suppose 
that  after  all  these  conditions  have  been  complied  with,  it  can  add 
the  same  sanction  in  a  case  where  the  most  essential  of  all  is 
wanting,  is  bad  reasoning  in  every  respect.  Yet  Buonaparte 
talks  loudly  of  sentiment,  as   if  sentiment   were  the  creature  of 


156  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

arbitrary  institutions.  The  law  is  founded  on  nature,  and  does 
not  create  it.  This  attempt  is  like  trying  to  unite  hard  sub- 
stances without  cement,  by  merely  pressing  them  violently  to- 
gether :  as  long  as  the  pressure  continues  they  remain  in  contact, 
but  as  soon  as  it  is  taken  away  they  fall  asunder.  I  will  venture 
to  say  that  Buonaparte  would  not  have  argued  in  this  manner,  nor 
have  suffered  any  one  else  to  do  so,  after  the  birth  of  the  King  of 
Rome.  Yet  he  is  as  absolute  in  his  tone  as  any  theological  bigot, 
who  has  undertaken  to  'impose  contradictions  in  terms  as  articles 
of  faith  on  mankind,  in  defiance  of  their  reason  and  senses. 
There  is  one  other  remark  to  be  made  on  this  extract ;  it  proves 
with  the  clearness  of  day-light,  that  the  scandalous  stories  respect- 
ing the  birth  of  the  adopted  child  whom  he  was  so  anxious  to 
place  on  a  level  with  one  of  the  blood  and  bone,  are  utterly  un- 
founded ;  for  the  rage  and  impatience  here  manifested  to  convert 
a  legal  fiction  into  a  natural  reality,  would  indeed  have  been  ab- 
surd and  wholly  unaccountable,  had  the  intended  child  and  heir 
of  his  adoption  been  really  and  truly  his  own  ron. 

As  a  contrast  to  these  instances  of  excessive  perversity  of  self- 
will,  I  will  here  add  another,  which  shows  equal  acuteness  with 
true  liberality  and  considerateness  of  feeling.  In  speaking  of 
sending  back  children  from  the  public  schools  after  making  trial 
of  their  abilities  for  a  certain  time,  Buonaparte  says,  "  It  is  a  very 
bad  idea.  One  has  no  right  thus  to  fix  a  stain  on  the  honor  of  a 
child  ;  for  it  is  one  that  would  stick  by  him  all  his  life.  A  great 
many  children  appear  stupid  at  twelve  or  fourteen  years  of  age, 
while  others  are  very  forward  at  ten.  One  ought  never  to  despair 
of  a  child  till  he  has  arrived  at  the  age  of  puberty  ;  it  is  then 
alone  that  he  attains  the  developement  of  all  his  faculties,  and 
that  a  judgment  can  be  formed  of  him.  Till  then,  no  encourage- 
ment should  be  spared.'"'  This  single  observation  would  do  honor 
to  any  one  who  had  spent  his  life  in  studying  the  character  of 
children  and  the  progressive  unfolding  of  the  faculties.  Buona- 
parte was  seldom  wrong,  except  when  he  was  determined  not  to 
be  right.  His  understanding  was  strong,  but  his  will  was  stid 
stronger. 


FIRST  SUGGESTION  OF   THE  CONCORDAT.  187 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 


FIRST    SUGGESTION    OF    1HE    CONCORDAT. 

Buonaparte's  object  almost  from  the  first  appears  to  have  been 
to  consolidate  the  Revolution,  by  softening  its  features  and  mixing 
up  its  principles  with  others  which  had  been  longer  and  more 
widely  established,  thus  to  reconcile  old  to  new  France,  the 
philosophers  and  the  priests,  and  the  Republic  with  the  rest  of 
Europe.  This  was  an  attempt  to  make  the  lamb  lie  down  with 
the  lion,  and  the  only  wonder  is  that  it  succeeded  so  far  as  it  did, 
which  it  could  not  have  done  but  for  the  eclat  of  his  name,  the 
dread  of  his  power,  and  the  extent  of  his  abilities  and  resources. 
It  was  by  means  of  the  Concordat  that  he  meant  to  heal  the 
breaches  in  religious  opinion,  and  the  following  seems  to  be  the 
best  account  of  the  train  of  his  feelings  and  reasonings  on  this 
subject. 

It  had  been  known  for  several  months  that  Buonaparte  was 
carrying  on  a  negociation  with  the  Court  of  Rome.  The  prelate 
Spina,  Cardinal  Gonsalvi,  and  Father  Caselli  were  at  Paris  as 
plenipotentiaries  from  the  Pope ;  Joseph  Buonaparte,  Cretet, 
Counsellor  of  State,  and  the  Abbe  Bernier  were  those  of  the  First 
Consul.  In  the  Catholic  church  the  priests  were  all  in  motion, 
and  in  the  world  the  politicians,  each  hoping  to  make  the  most  of 
their  different  schemes.  The  single  fact  of  a  negociation  being 
on  foot  with  the  Pope  was  quite  enough  to  show  what  there  was  to 
be  expected,  and  what  the  First  Consul  had  in  view. 

On  the  21st  o^  Prairial,  one  of  the  Counsellors  of  State,  X , 

dined  at  Malmaison.  After  dinner  the  First  Consul  took  him 
out  alone  with  him  into  the  park,  and  turned  the  conversation  on 
religion.  He  combatted  for  a  considerable  time  the  different  sys- 
tems of  philosophers  on  modes  of  worship,  deism,  natural  religion, 

&c.     All  this  he  designated  as  ideology.      He  more   than  once 

14 


158  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

quoted  Garat  as  at  the  head  of  the  ideologists.  "  Hold,"  said  he  ; 
"  I  was  here  last  Sunday,  walking  out  in  this  solitude,  in  the 
silence  of  nature.  The  sound  of  the  bells  of- the  church  at  Ruel 
suddenly  struck  my  ear.  I  was  affected  ;  so  great  is  the  power 
:f  early  habit  and  of  education  !  I  said  to  myself  then,  what  an 
impression  must  it  not  make  on  simple  and  credulous  minds  !  Let 
your  philosophers,  your  metaphysicians,  reply  to  that ;  a  religion 
is  necessary  for  the  people.  It  is  also  necessary  that  this  religion 
should  be  in  the  hands  of  the  Government.  Fifty  emigrant  bish- 
ops in  the  pay  of  England  at  present  govern  the  French  clergy 
as  they  please.  It  is  necessary  to  destroy  this  influence;  the 
authority  of  the  Pope  is  required  for  that  purpose.  He  displaces 
them,  or  makes  them  give  in  their  resignation.  It  is  declared 
that  the  Catholic  religion  being  that  of  the  majority  of  Frenchmen, 
it  is  proper  to  regulate  the  exorcise  of  it.  The  First  Consul 
nominates  fifty  bishops,  the  Pope  inducts  them.  They  name  the 
curates,  the  State  pays  their  salaries.  They  take  the  oath  ;  those 
who  do  not  are  banished.  Such  of  them  as  preach  against  the 
Government  are  denounced  to  their  superiors  to  be  punished. 
The  Pope  confirms  the  sale  of  the  goods  of  the  clergy;  he  conse- 
crates the  Republic.  They  will  then  chaunt  Salvam  fac  rem 
Gallicam.  The  bull  is  arrived.  There  are  only  a  few  expres- 
sions to  alter.  It  will  be  said  I  am  a  Papist.  I  am  nothing.  I 
was  a  Mahometan  in  Egypt,  I  will  be  a  Catholic  here  for  the  good 
of  the  people.  I  do  not  belong  to  any  religion  ;  but  the  idea  of  a 
God  '"' — and  lifting  his  hands  to  Heaven — "  Who  is  it,:'  he  said, 

"who  has  made  rill   that  V'      X then   spoke   in   his  turn,  for 

hitherto  he  had  listened  with' ait  saving  a  word  : 

••  To  discuss  the  necessity  of  a  religion  is  to  mistake  the  ques- 
tion. I  am  readv  to  allow  the  utility  of  a  particular  worship. 
But  a  religious  worship  may  exist  without  a  clergy ;  for  priests 
and  a  clergv  are  two  very  di  tie  rent  things.  There  is  implied  in 
a  clergy  an  hierarchy,  one  and  the  same  spirit,  one  and  the  same 
end:  it  is  a  b  idv.  a  power,  and  a  colossal  one.  If  this  body  had 
the  chief  of  the  state  for  its  head,  the  evil  would  be  on  A"  half; 
out  if  it  acknowledges  a  foreign  prince  as  ir^  head,  it  is  then  a 
rival  power.  Xever  has  there  been  a  more  favorable  opportunity 
in  France  for  making  an  entire  revolution  in  religion.     You  have 


FIRST   SUGGESTION   OF   THE   CONCORDAT.  159 

at  present  the  Constitutionalists,  the  Apostolic  Vicars  of  the  Pope, 
the  Emigrant  Bishops  in  England,  with  many  shades  of  difference 
in  all  three.  Citizens  and  priests,  all  is  disunion;  and  the  great- 
est part  of  the  nation  is  in  a  state  of  indifference." 

"You  deceive  yourself,"  interrupted  Napoleon,  "the  clergy 
exists  always,  it  will  always  exist  while  there  is  a  religious  spirit 
in  the  people,  and  this  spirit  is  inherent  in  them.  We  have  had 
instances  of  republics,  of  democracies,  of  all  that  we  see,  but 
never  any  state  without  religion,  without  a  form  of  worship,  with- 
out a  priesthood.  Is  it  not  better  then  to  regulate  the  worship 
and  gain  over  the  priests  than  to  leave  things  as  they  are  ?  At 
present  the  priests  preach  against  the  Republic  ;  are  we  to  send 
them  into  exile  ?  No  ;  for  to  succeed  in  this  we  must  change  the 
whole  system  of  government.  What  makes  it  popular  is  its 
respect  for  religion.  We  may  send  the  English  and  Austrians 
out  of  the  country  ;  but  as  to  Frenchmen  who  have  families  and 
who  are  only  guilty  of  holding  other  religious  opinions,  it  is  im- 
possible.     We  must  then  attach  them  to  the  Republic." 

JX .   "  They    can  never  become   sincerely   attached  to  it. 

The  Revolution  has  despoiled  them  of  their  privileges  and  their 
property.  They  will  never  forgive  this  double  offence,  but  will 
always  wage  war  against  it.  They  will  be  less  formidable  while 
they  are  scattered,  than  when  they  are  established  and  re-united. 
There  is  no  need  either  to  banish  or  to  persecute  any  one,  but 
merely  to  let  every  priest  say  mass  as  he  judges  fit,  and  every 
Frenchman  go  to  church  or  chapel  as  he  pleases  ;  and  if,  after 
all,  the  opposition  of  the  priests  to  the  Republic  was  pushed  to 
such  a  point  as  to  trouble  the  latter,  1  should  not  hesitate  to  sacri- 
fice them  to  the  public  tranquillity." 

Burnt .   "You  would  then  proscribe  them?" 

K .   "  Must  we  proscribe  the  Republic  ?" 

Biton.  "That  is  playing  on  words." 

N .  "  Xo,  it  is  defining  things.  Besides,  with  a  good  dis- 
cipline and  an  enlightened  police,  I  do  not  think  we  shall  have 
occasion  to  proceed  to  that  length." 

Bnon.  "  And  on  my  part  I  tell  you  that  the  priests  who  shall 
accept  of  office  will  by  that  alone  have  made  a  schism  with  ttie 


160  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

old  titular  clergy,  and  will  then  be  interested  in  preventing  theii 
return  and  in  favoring  the  new  order  of  things." 

IV .   "  I  hope  it  may  turn  out  so,  but  I  am   not  sure  of  it. 

This,  however,  is  but  a  very  small  part  of  the  great  question. 
The  Catholic  religion  is  become  intolerant,  and  its  priests  are 
counter-revolutionary  :  the  spirit  of  the  present  time  is  entirely 
opposed  to  theirs;   we  are  nearer  the  Gospel  than  they." 

Buon.  "  What  we  are  about  to  do  will  give  a  mortal  blow  to 
Popery." 

IV .   "  On   the   contrary,   it   will   revive   and    give   it   new 

force." 

Buon.  ';  Ought  I  not  to  do  just  the  contrary  to  what  Henry  IV. 
did  ?" 

IV .   "  Different  times  have  different  manners.     For  myself, 

if  it  is  indispensable  to  have  a  predominant  worship,  I  should  pre- 
fer his." 

Buon.   "  My  good  friend,  you  know  nothing  of  the  matter." 

IV .   "  Every  thing  is  prepared   for  such   a  change.     We 

are  very  differently  situated  from  what  England  and  Germany 
formerly  were,  and  the  times  of  the  Reformation  had  not  a  Buona- 
parte. In  the  actual  state  of  men's  minds,  you  have  but  to  say  a 
word,  and  Popery  is  forever  ruined,  and  France  declares  for  Prot- 
estantism." 

Buon.  "Ay,  one  half  of  it.  and  the  other  half  will  remain  Catho- 
lic ;   and  we  shall  have  quarrels  and  dissensions  interminable." 

IV .   "  Had   we   reasoned   thus   during  the   Revolution,   the 

Constitutional  Assembly  would  have  given  way  before  the  feudal 
system,  and  the  National  Convention  before  royalty  and  hereditary 
right.  Every  revolution,  political  or  religious,  must  look  for  op- 
position." 

Buon.  :c  Why  then  provoke  it  on  the  part  of  the  people  ana 
the  priests  ?  The  enlightened  part  of  the  community  will  not 
'  :i-  •  an  insurrection  against  Catholicism  ;  ihev  are  too  indifferent, 
i  then  save  myself  great  difficulties  in  the  interior,  and  I  can,  by 
means  of  the  Pope  abroad" There  he  stopped. 

JY .   "Yes.  reckoning  the  sacrifices   which  will   also  place 

you  in  a  state  of  dependence  on  him.  You  have  to  deal  with  an 
adversary  who  is   artful   and   more    powerful    against    those   who 


FIRST   SUGGESTION   OF   THE   CONCORDAT.  1« 

treat  with  him  than  against  those  who  have  once  broken  with  him. 
The  thing  offers  at  present  only  a  favorable  side.  But  when  you 
imagine  you  have  done  with  the  Pope,  you  will  see  what  will  hap- 
pen.     The  occasion  is  without  example.     -If  you  let  it  escape" — 

Buon.  {After  a  moment's  reflection)  "  My  friend,  there  is  no 
longer  either  good  faith  or  belief;  there  is  no  longer  any  fear  of 
the  clergy  ;  it  is  merely  a  political  arrangement.  Things  are  too 
far  advanced  to  retreat,  and  the  part  which  I  have  taken  appears 
to  me  the  safest." 

2V .   "  Indeed,  since  the  bull  is  arrived,  all  I  could  say  must 

be  of  very  little  use." 

Thus  ended  this  remarkable  conversation.  It  shows  pretty 
clearly  the  motives  that  actuated  Buonaparte  in  this  measure — ■ 
some  latent  feelings  of  religion,  and  the  prospect  of  making  use  cf 
the  Papal  See,  as  an  engine  of  power,  and  also  for  restoring  in- 
ternal  tranquillity.  The  question  itself  is  one  which  I  cannot 
pretend  to  judge,  without  knowing  more  of  the  state  of  religious 
feeling  in  France  than  I  do  ;  but  I  shall  attempt  to  lay  down  one 
or  two  general  remarks  on  the  subject,  on  which,  I  think,  the  so- 
lution of  the  problem  and  the  policy  or  impolicy  of  Buonaparte's 
conduct  may  in  a  great  measure  be  presumed  to  depend.  In  the 
first  place,  .it  appears  to  me  right  to  consider  not  what  is  good  in 
itself  but  what  is  fit  for  the  time  and  place  in  which  it  is  intended 
to  be  put  in  practice.  If  Buonaparte  could  by  a  Concordat  have 
brought  back  the  times  of  Popery  in  their  full  power  and  splendor, 
when  the  Catholic  faith  was  like  one  entire  chrysolite  without 
flaw  or  seeming  spot  in  it,  I  should  for  one  have  no  objection  to 
that.  Popery,  whatever  were  its  faults,  its  abuses,  or  its  absurd- 
ities, was  in  this  sense  a  true  and  noble  religion,  that  it  let  down 
Heaven  upon  earth.  Men  no  more  doubted  of  a  future  state  and 
of  the  glory  hereafter  to  be  revealed  than  of  their  own  existence  ; 
and  if  the  priests  took  possession  of  the  power  and  riches  of  this 
world,  they  gave  us  another  in  lieu  of  it — no  bad  exchange.  It 
was  not  a  clear  loss.  This  faith  was  implicit,  firm,  and  pure,  for 
it  had  never  been  called  in  question  ;  and  the  impression  of  that 
of  which  a  doubt  bad  never  been  entertained  or  was  supposed  to 
have  been  entertained  by  others,  became  by  habit  and  the  common 

consent  of  mankind  equivalent  to  an  object  of  sense.      Europe  was 

U* 


182  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

a  temple  in  which  Popery  had  its  worship  and  its  altars,  was  em- 
hodied  in  pictures  and  in  imagery,  was  borne  on  the  sounds  of 
music,  "  like  an  exhalation  of  rich  distilled  perfumes,"  was  so- 
lemnized in  processions,  in  festivals,  in  ceremony,  in  dresses,  in 
buildings,  was  sanctioned  by  the  voice  of  learning,  by  the  dread 
of  power,  showed  its  mitred  front  in  palaces  and  cities,  smote  the 
heart  in  the  depths  of  solitude,  shed  its  light  on  the  path  of  life, 
and  hung  its  lamp  in  the  tomb.  This  state  of  involuntary  ab- 
straction was  a  great,  perhaps  the  greatest  benefit.  There  was 
no  condition  so  high  that  it  did  not  spread  a  lustre  round  it,  none 
so  low  that  it  did  not  raise  it  from  pain  and  from  despair.  Faith 
is  the  evidence  of  things  unseen,  and  Popery  furnished  this  evi- 
dence in  the  highest  decree — a  trust  and  conviction  in  sacred 
things,  strengthened  and  exalted  beyond  the  reach  of  doubt,  of 
guilt,  or  passion  by  time,  by  numbers,  by  all  that  could  appal  or 
allure  the  imagination.  Within  the  bosom  of  the  Roman  Catho- 
lic Church,  under  the  shadow  of  its  countenance,  there  was  a  re- 
pose on  "the  Ancient  of  Days,"  deep  and  calm  as  the  sleep  of 
cradled  infancy.  This  is  still  in  a  good  measure  the  case  in  Italy, 
where  you  see  an  innocent  girl  crossing  her  forehead  with  holy 
water,  and  feeling  her  soul  refreshed  ;  an  old  woman  kissing  the 
feet  of  a  crucifix  at  the  corner  of  a  street,  and  not  suspecting  that 
this  subjects  her  to  the  ridicule  of  any  living  being  ;  an  old  man, 
bareheaded,  making  his  annual  pilgrimage  to  Rome,  counting  his 
beads  unconscious  of  all  around,  and  eyeing  St.  Peter's  as  the 
road  to  heaven,  as  if  he  wore  already  entering  the  precincts  of  the 
New  Jerusalem.  To  those  who  think  this  nothing,  I  have  nothing 
to  say.  Those  who  could  take  the  finest  aspirations  and  most 
"■orseous  visions  of  ihr  human  mind  as  to  its  own  origin,  destiny, 
and  nature,  and  make  out  of  this  air-woven  theory  a  solid  fabric 
and  a  materia!  language,  familiarized  to  the  thoughts  of  the  whole 
community,  and  speakimr  audibly  to  the  lowest  and  the  highest, 
were,  I  think,  architects  of  human  happiness  and  builders  of  the 
loftiest  fiction.  I  s>;  far  approve  of  that  deep  sleep,  of  that  solemn 
rlooni,  of  those  bright  visions,  and  would  not  disturb  them.  It  is 
to  no  purpose  to  tell  me  that  the  rites  of  this  religi  in  were  child- 
ish mummeries,  that  these  theoretical  doctrines  were  the  wildest 
absurdities — that  moves  me  not  a  jot;    when  I  see  truth   and  phi- 


FIRST   SUGGESTION   OF   THE   CONCORDAT.  163 

losophy  inspire  the  same  enthusiasm  and  the  same  reverence  that 
it  is  complained  were  lavished  on  folly  and  superstition,  then  1 
shall  give  the  preference  to  the  former  over  the  latter.  What 
does  it  import  that  in  wrangling  ahout  the  difference  between  real 
and  pretended  excellence,  we  arrive  at  the  object  of  our  pursuit 
and  lose  all  feeling  about  it?  Philosophers  were  so  far  wrong  in 
relinquishing  the  hold  which  the  other  world  gave  them  over  the 
minds  of  the  people:  ever  since,  instead  of  learned  ease,  leisure, 
dignity,  they  have  had  nothing  but  disputes,  mortifications,  and 
the  contempt  of  the  vulgar.  What  have  those  gained  by  it  who 
were  most  active  in  sundering  reason  from  authority  ?  Have  not 
those  who  have  in  fact  advanced  the  cause  of  truth  and  discovered 
any  new  link  in  the  chain  been  uniformly  exposed  to  the  sneers 
of  the  world  and  baited  with  the  rabble's  curse?  Have  not  the 
most  daring  and  acute  been  exposed  to  the  greatest  obloquy  ? 
Have  not  the  different  sects  in  turn  persecuted,  slandered,  and  ex- 
tirpated one  another  ?  We  have  discarded  Popery,  but  have  got 
nothing  in  its  stead  :  or  why  complain  of  the  servile  submission  to 
the  infallibility  of  the  Pope,  when  every  one  still  believes  just  as 
much  in  the  newspaper  of  the  day  or  the  libel  he  last  read,  but 
without  the  consistency,  dignity,  or  quiet?  Reason  is  not  yet  out 
of  its  long  minority,  nor  has  it  mounted  its  promised  throne. 
Could  Buonaparte  therefore  have  restored  the  pristine  integrity  of 
the  Catholic  church  with  all  its  accompaniments,  I  should  have 
had  no  objection,  but  the  thing  was  in  our  time  impossible,  just  as 
much  as  it  is  impossible  for  the  brain  to  dream  waking  ;  faith  is 
founded  on  the  sleep  of  reason,  and  he  could  only  bring  hack  hy- 
pocrisy, tiie  abhorred  alike  of  God  and  man.  The  only  good  of 
the  Catholic  religion  was  the  faith  in  it,  without  which  it  would  be 
like  a  painted  sepulchre  or  an  ill-acted  play.  Nay  more,  could 
he  have  carried  back  the  state  of  public  faith  and  feeling  to  the 
time  preceding  the  Reformation,  this  would  not  have  been  enough 
unless  he  could  have  violently  suppressed  all  the  causes  then  at 
work  to  produce  its  overthrow,  unless  he  could  have  corrected  the 
abuses  and  corruptions  of  Popery  arising  out  of  its  very  success 
and  unbridled  power,  and  thus  have  brought  its  pretensions  into 
Question  and  given  it  a  check  that  way;  or  to  make  it  last  an- 
other  thousand  years,  have  thrown  the  world  back   to  the   bc<ziD 


164  LIFE   OF   XAPOLEOX 


ning  of  the  dark  ages,  and  to  the  period  of  the  triumph  of  igno 
ranee  and  barbarism  over  civilization  and  knowledge  ?  But  this 
was  too  much  for  any  man  to  do,  or  even  to  think  of.  We  must, 
therefore,  work  with  the  instruments  that  are  allotted  us;  and  no 
man  can  resist  the  spirit  of  the  age  in  which  he  lives.  The  mind 
may  reverence  an  absurdity,  but  cannot  do  so  after  it  knows  it  to 
be  one.  That  which  before  was  held  up  as  an  object  of  awe  and 
veneration,  if  in  that  case  attempted  to  be  forced  upon  it.  becomes 
an  insult.  Thcworld  grows  old  like  the  individual,  and  has  its 
season  of  enthusiasm  and  its  season  of  indifference;  but  at  all 
times  affectation  is  bad.  The  faith  in  religion  is  good  only  while 
it  is  sincere.  Why  did  people  at  the  time  of  the  Reformation  give 
up  Popery?  Because  it  was  found  out  to  be  an  imposture,  and 
they  c  iuid  not  believe  in  an  imposture,  though  they  would.  The 
Catholic  religion  without  faith  is  stark-naught;  and  yet  this  is  the 
only  Catholic  religion  that  could  be  established  in  France  after 
the  Revolution. 

To  make  the  public  mind  in  France  a  fit  recipient  for  Popery, 
that  is,  to  restore  the  blind  and  implicit  belief  in  it  which  could 
alone  make  it  desirable,  it  would  be  necessary  to  enfjree  a  strict 
quarantine  against  all  those  works  in  which  for  the  last  hundred 
years  the  faith  in  priests  and  Popery  had  been  undermined  by 
■ss  wit  and  raillery  :  would  the  French  people  then  give 
up  Moliere  or  Voltaire  to  a  Concordat  ?  Nor  would  this  be  suffi- 
cient ;  it  would  be  necessary  to  destroy  or  prohibit  all  works  of 
reasoning,  of  history,  or  science;  all  that  had  contributed  to  form 
tin-  national  mind  and  tone  of  thinking  since  th  ■  Reformation,  and 
construct  it  anew  out  of  tie-  elements  of  chaos  and  the  i  hscun  st 
depths  of  ignorance.  It  would  be  necessary  t  i  destroy  the  press, 
an  engine  that  would  destroywhatever  power  attempted  to  crush 
it. — It,  however,  seems  to  me  that  the  establishment  of  Protest- 
antism recommended  above,  would  be  even  worse  than  the  estab- 
lishment of  Popery  ;  fir  if  w  must  have  an  establishment,  let 
Us  have  the  eld'  st.  The  Protestant  r  ligi  n  is  c  Id,  formal,  lip- 
service,  that  neitli'-r  warms  the  heart  n  <r  inspires  the  head.  In 
K.'i_:  tnd.  the  established  religion  has  no  effect  on  the  pe<  pi"  , 
they  no  to  church  as  a  matter  of  course  or  as  a  way  of  passing 
the  time  ;    but  they  neither   understand    what   they   hear  nrr  ara 


FIRST  SUGGESTION   OF   THE   CONCORDAT.  163 

affected  with  what  they  see,  nor  do  they  think  of  it  from  one 
week's  end  to  another.  There  are  no  pictures,  no  crucifixes,  no 
incessant  scene-shifting  to  keep  them  alive,  no  learned  language 
which  they  think  may  be  that  of  the  other  world.  Hunger  and 
the  law  alone  keep  them  in  order ;  the  hope  or  fear  of  a  future 
state  is  quite  powerless,  for  they  meet  with  nothing  to  remind 
them  of  it  adapted  to  their  ordinary  habits  and  modes  of  thinking. 
The  sectaries  alone  have  any  religion  ;  and  the_  Methodists  all 
the  enthusiasm.  In  Scotland  it  is  different  ;  in  those  cold  and 
sterile  regions  the  spirit  of  opposition  to  authority  and  of  fiery 
controversy  still  encourages  the  zeal  for  religious  forms  and  opin- 
ions, and  is  aided  by  the  simplicity  of  manners  and  local  circum- 
stances. In  Ireland  we  see  Popery  in  its  worst  and  most 
( degraded  state,  where  it  is  confined  to  the  most  ignorant  of  the 
people  and  not  supported  by  public  opinion  or  by  the  authority 
of  the  state,  though  it  has  relaxed  none  of  its  claims  to  domina- 
tion over  the  human  mind.  The  priests  and  their  flocks' are  well- 
fitted  to  each  other.  Certainly,  the  way  to  detach  the  mass  of 
the  people  from  such  brutish  bondage  is  to  remove  every  distinc- 
tion or  obstacle  that  separates  them  from  the  rest  of  the  com- 
munity. The  way  to  prevent  others  from  leaguing  and  plotting 
against  you  is  not  to  exclude  them  from  your  confidence  or  coun- 
sels. Statesmen  talk  of  religion  as  necessary  to  the  vulgar — this 
is  the  ridiculous  air  of  a  fine  gentleman.  The  people  have  no 
religion  but  what  they  imbibe  from  their  superiors.  If  the  higher 
classes  are  without  religion,  they  will  soon  find  the  lower  imita- 
ting their  example  in  this  as  in  all  other  things.  It  is  in  vain  to 
think  of  reserving  infidelity  as  a  private  luxury  for  the  rich. 
Tue  poorer  sort  are  spies  upon  the  rich  and  see  through  appear- 
ances with  a  shrewdness  and  tact  often  proportioned  to  their  gen- 
eral ignorance  and  consequent  suspicion  of  the  motives  and  feel- 
ings of  those  at  whose  mercy  and  disposal  they  find  themselves. 
It'  it  were  otherwise,  the  servants  in  great  families  would  betray 
their  masters'  secrets,  and  do  away  by  mischievous  tattle  all  the 
good  effects  of  their  appearing  once  a  week  at  church  in  stately 
formality,  as  a  compliment  to  heaven  and  an  example  to  their 
dependants.  Hypocrisy  must  be  deep  indeed,  systematic,  and 
professional,  that  sets  at  defiance  this  ordeal  ;   and  we  find  even 


166  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

that  the  monks  and  priests,  whose  business  it  was  and  who  had 
made  a  science  of  it,  could  not  at  the  time  of  the  Reformation 
carry  on  the  farce  any  longer.  The  common  people  have  eyes 
and  ears  ;  and  society  is  an  electrical  machine,  by  which  good 
and  evil,  vice  and  virtue  are  communicated  with  instantaneous 
rapidity  from  one  extremity  to  another.  The  true  solution  of  the 
dilliculty  is  that  given  in  the  dialogue  above,  where  the  State- 
Counsellor  recommends  a  perfect  freedom  and  toleration  of  all 
sects  and  religions.  Let  each  person  follow  and  pay  for  his  own 
religion,  for  it  is  contrary  to  equitable  reasoning  to  make  anyone 
else  pay  for  or  follow  it  ;  nor  is  it  any  business  of  the  state,  ex- 
cept as  an  engine  of  power,  which  is  an  argument  against  it.  It 
is  not  the  duty  of  government  to  show  us  the  way  to  the  other 
world,  but  to  afford  us  protection  in  this.  The  whole  business  of 
legislation  reduces  itself  to  establishing  a  good  and  effectual  sys- 
tem of  police,  so  as  to  keep  the  peace  between  individual  and 
individual.  According  to  modern  logic  and  prevailing  senti- 
ments, government  ought  to  interfere  as  little  as  possible  with 
religion  or  morals  or  the  fine  arts  or  commerce.  Let  these  all 
be  left  to  make  their  own  way  and  to  find  their  own  level  from 
their  intrinsic  and  understood  advantages,  and  let  government 
merely  stand  by  as  a  peace-officer  to  prevent  any  one  from 
using  violence  or  fraud  in  his  transactions  with  others.  It  is 
pretty  generally  allowed  at  present  that  religion  ought  to  be 
tolerated,  and  thai  trade  ought  to  be  free.  At  one  time  it  was 
thought  that  both  would  perish,  and  that  the  community  could  not 
subsist,  unless  the  government  took  the  management  and  encour- 
agement of  both  directly  and  absolutely  into  its  own  hands. 
The  rule  is,  to  give  men  leave  to  do  all  the  good  they  can, 
only  hindering  them  from  hurting  one  another.  The  encour- 
agement of  the  fine  arts  is  usi  less,  if  the  taste  and  genius  of  the 
people  do  not  point  that  way  ;  if  they  do,  thev  will  produce  all 
their  wonders  ami  refinements  from  inclination  and  liking. 
Again,  it  is  in  vain  to  make  laws  to  punish  vice,  if  manners 
forbid  their  execution  ;  it  is  equally  useless  if  the  manners  pre- 
clude the  vice.  This  observation,  of  course,  applies  only  to  per- 
sonal vices,  or  to  such  as  affect  ourselves  only,  and  not  to  such 
us  immediately  affect   others.      1    b<  lieve    a    complete   system   of 


FIRST   SUGGESTION   OF    THE   CONCORDAT.  16" 

legislation  might  be  formed  upon  some  such  simple  principle  as 
that  of  only  opposing  force  by  force  ;  and  perhaps  the  Code 
Napoleon  might  have  approached  nearer  to  it  without  inconve- 
nience. The  liberty  of  the  press  would  have  been  one  grand 
feature  and  corollary  from  such  a  system  of  legislation  ;  and 
though  Napoleon  says  he  should  have  had  "  thirty  royalists  and 
as  many  Jacobin  Journals  established  to  run  him  down,"  he  might 
have  baffled  both  in  this  way,  as  well  as  by  shooting  a  bookseller.* 
Libels  or  invectives  do  nothing  against  principles  ;  and  as  to  indi- 
viduals, it  is  the  attempt  to  suppress  truth,  that  gives  falsehood  its 
worst  edge.  What  transpires  (however  secretly  or  maliciously) 
in  spite  of  the  law,  is  taken  for  gospel  •  and  as  it  is  impossible  to 
prevent  calumny,  so  it  is  impossible  to  counteract  it,  while  all  that 
can  be  said  in  answer  to  it  is  attributed  to  people's  not  daring  to 
speak  the  truth.  Or  if  he  could  not  take  so  bold  and  difficult  a 
step  in  clearing  the  way  to  a  new  system,  conformably  to  existing 
feelings  and  opinions,  at  least  he  need  not  have  thrown  any  addi- 
tional or  unnecessary  stumbling-blocks  in  its  way,  such  as  the 
revived  Gallican  church,  which  would  impede  the  progress  of 
society  in  its  real  path,  and  could  not  throw  it  back  into  its  old 
station.  That  was  not  the  sort  of  blocks  of  granite  to  cast  on  the 
soil  of  France,  to  give  solidity  and  purchase  to  the  new  ideas  of 
government  and  civilization.  Besides,  encouraging  the  priests 
was  only  warming  the  viper  in  his  bosom  ;  if  triumphant,  he 
needed  them  not  ;  if  in  difficulty,  they  would  be  sure  to  betray 
him.  There  was  no  possibility  of  conciliating  or  rendering  them 
neuter  ;  even  their  impotence  would  only  increase  their  malice 
by  a  comparison  with  former  times,  which  their  restoration  would 
necessarily  suggest. 

The  same  objection  might  be  made  to  the  recal  of  the  emi- 
grants. As  a  step  to  reconcile  men's  minds  to  nobility,  it  might 
be  politic  ;  but  not  consistent  with  republican  principles.  Buo- 
naparte asks  on  this  subject  (which  I  will  so  far  anticipate),  "  Is 

*  An  irritable  poet  of  great  celebrity,  'whose  political  bias  is  no  secret, 
being  invited  to  a  booksellers'  dinner,  was  called  upon  for  a  literary  toast 

or  sentiment.     He  gave  "Buonaparte.''     "What!   Mr. ,  did  we  under* 

Btand  you  rightly  ]  We  asked  you  for  a  literary  toast  or  sentiment/-' 
'•'  Why,  yes ;  egad — he  shot  a  bookseller  once  !" 


169  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

it  not  natural  to  respect  the  son  of  a  sage  or  a  hero  more  than  the 
son  of  a  common  man  ?"  And  the  answer  is,  Yes,  but  not  more 
than  his  father.  This  feeling,  as  far  as  it  is  natural,  will  have 
its  effect  without  positive  institution.  The  descendants  of  Milton 
and  Shakespeare  were  living  lately,  but  they  were  only  thought 
of  for  the  sake  of  their  ancestors.  Had  they  been  mere  nobles, 
their  posterity  would  have  been  honored  and  they  themselves  for- 
got. But  it  is  said,  that  property  is  transmitted,  and  why  not  titles 
and  honors  ?  Because  property  can  be  transmitted,  and  the  re- 
spect (such  as  it  is)  attendant  on  it  ;  but  talents  and  virtues  are 
not  transmissible,  and  therefore  it  is  not  parallel  to  say  that  the 
honors  or  homage  originally  paid  to  these  should  be  transmitted 
by  patent  without  them.  This  is  making  a  property  of  honors 
and  of  public  opinion,  as  a  privilege  to  which  men  are  entitled  by 
birth  and  for  their  own  sakes,  and  not  for  the  benefit  of  the  public. 
There  is  but  one  step  farther  necessary  in  this  false  train  of  rea- 
soning to  arrive  at  the  principle  of  absolute  monarchy,  which 
makes  a  property  of  thrones  and  the  rights  and  liberties  of  nations 
a  bye-word  ! 


MARENGO.  169 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 


MARENGO. 

It  is  necessary  to  return  at  present  and  take  up  the  thread  of 
historical  events  in  their  order.  The  first  thing  Buonaparte  did 
on  assuming  the  reins  of  Government  was  to  write  a  letter  to  the 
King  of  England  soliciting  peace.  The  letter  and  the  answer  to 
it  are  as  follows,  and  both  remarkable  enough. 

"  French  Republic — Sovereignly  of  the  People — Liberty — 
Equality. 

1  Buonaparte,  First  Consul  of  the  Republic,  to  His  Majesty  the 
King  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland. 

"  Called  by  the  wishes  of  the  French  nation  to  occupy  the  First 
Magistracy  of  the  Republic,  I  have  thought  proper,  in  commencing 
the  discharge  of  the  duties  of  this  office,  to  communicate  the  event 
directly  to  your  Majesty. 

"  Must  the  war,  which  for  eight  years  has  ravaged  the  four 
quarters  of  the  world,  be  eternal  ?  Is  there  no  room  for  accom- 
modation ? 

"  How  can  the  two  most  enlightened  nations  in  Europe, 
stronger  and  more  powerful  than  is  necessary  for  their  safety 
and  independence,  sacrifice  commercial  advantages,  internal 
prosperity,  ami  domestic  happiness  to  vain  ideas  of  grandeur? 
Whence  is  it  that  they  do  not  feel  peace  to  be  the  first  of  \vant9, 
as  well  as  the  first  of  glories? 

'•  These  sentiments  cannot  be  new  to  the  heart  of  your  Majes- 
ty, who  rule  over  a  free  nation  with  no  other  view  than  to  render 
it  happy. 

'■'Your  Majesty  will  see  in  this  overture  only  my  sincere  desire 

vol.  ii.  9  15 


170  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


to  contribute  effectually,  for  the  second  time,  to  a  general  pacifi- 
cation, by  a  prompt  step  taken  in  confidence,  and  freed  from  those 
forms,  which,  however  necessary  to  disguise  the  apprehensions  of 
feid>le  states,  only  serve  to  discover  in  those  that  are  powerful  a 
mutual  wish  to  deceive. 

"  France  and  Kngland  may,  by  the  abuse  of  their  strength, 
long  defer  the  period  of  its  utter  exhaustion,  unhappily  for  all 
nations.  But  1  will  venture  to  sav,  that  the  fate  of  all  civilized 
nations  is  concerned  in  the  termination  of  a  war,  the  flames  of 
which  are  raging  throughout  the  whole  world. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  he,  eco. 

"  Buonaparte." 

The  style  of  this  letter  has  been  criticized  as  empirical,  and  as 
an  indecorous  schooling  of  Majesty  ;  ami  in  all  ordinary  conjunc- 
tures, the  objection  would  hold  good.  But  where  the  personal 
character  and  motives  of  the  Government  were  continually 
cavilled  at  and  made  in  this  verv  instance  an  insuperable  bar  to 
peace,  it  was  surely  allowable  for  the  chief  magistrate  to  come 
forward  in  his  own  person  and  to  take  a  frank  and  decisive  step, 
as  free  as  possible  from  official  embarrassment  and  mystery. 
Though  a  diplomatic  license,  it  was  at  any  rate  a  less  flagrant 
one  than  the  assassination  i4'  ambassadors,  which  was  the  Icgiti- 
matc  termination  of  the  last  political  negociation  (that  of  Rastadt) 
Buonaparte  had  been  on^aimd  in.  If.  however,  his  appeal  to  the 
personal  feelings  of  George  III.  was  forward  and  overweening, 
there  is  no  want  of  pruderv  and  reserve  in  Lord  Grenville's 
reply,  which  reminds  one  of  .Miss  Harris's  retort  on  her  sister, 
who  had  proposed  to  forget  all  mutual  faulN.  that  ••she  has  no. 
thing  to  charge  her  conscience  with."'  This  comparison  may  be 
thought  trifling  and  low;  and  I  should  think  so,  if  meanness 
could  not  insinuate  itself  into  cabinets  nor  hypocrisy  mount  upon 
a  throne.  The  document  is  a  curious  and  instructive  specimen 
of  the  ciiithcr-htiiHl  of  Pitt,  in  which  it  is  impossible  to  detect  either 
hemmiin;:.  middle,  or  end.  which  rings  the  changes  of  pompous 
and  conventional  phraseology  on  a  continual  vapid  assumption  of 
the  question,   which   defines   nothing,  suites   nothing,   proves    no 


MARENGO.  171 


thing,  but  goes  round  and  round  in  a  circle  of  charges,  commit- 
tals, and  equivocations,  and  in  the  flourishes  and  mazes  of  which 
(containing  a  deadly  purpose  under  a  routine  of  hollow  common- 
places) England  lost  her  liberties,  her  strength,  herself  and  the 
world.  It  is  a  question  between  two  Governments,  which  is  sin- 
cere in  its  desire  of  peace  ;  and  one  of  them  endeavors  to  prove 
its  sincerity  by  saying  it  will  be  ready  to  make  peace  with  the 
oilier,  whenever  it  ahull  have  ceased  to  exist.  Its  existence  is  the 
avowed  obstacle  to  peace  ;  which,  instead  of  a  pledge  of  pacific 
intentions,  amounts  to  a  standing  declaration  of  war.  It  is  easy 
to  sec  that  that  party  that  obstinately  pronounces  the  other  inca- 
pable of  making  peace,  is  itself  determined  against  it.  Few 
st, ites  would  carry  on  war,  if  their  rivals  would  please  to  submit 
to  their  yoke.  It  is  as  if  a  person  should  profess  a  cordial  desire 
and  readiness  to  be  reconciled  to  an  enemy,  on  condition  that  th* 
latter  should  hang  himself  in  the  next  tree.  This  in  private  life 
would  he  thought  an  irony,  instead  of  an  amicable  overture. 
What  would  have  been  said  if  Buonaparte  had  proposed  to  the 
King  of  Great  Britain  to  resign  his  crown  and  authority  in  favor 
of  a  Republican  form  of  Government  or  of  the  surviving  branch 
of  the  Stuarts,  and  that  then  he  might  make  peace-  with  him? 
Would  it  nave  been  enough  to  screen  such  an  official  outrage,  to 
have  added  a  saving  tdau.-,",  that  this  was  not  an  absolute  sine 
qua  non  ;  though,  till  it  was  complied  with,  he  must  carry  on  "a 
just  and  ''efensive  war/'  Oh  no!  This  is  only  the  language 
which  established  governments  hold  to  green  usurpations — it 
would  not  otherwise  bis  borne  ;  "  it  is  the  gibberish  and  patois  of 
all*  cted  legitimacy,"  which  "the  gorge  of  freedom  rises  at;"  it 
is  outlawing  a  government  under  the  mask  of  parleying  with  it; 
or  inviting  an  adversary  to  sign  terms  of  peace  with  a  pen,  while 
you,  who  set  yourself  up  as  both  judge  and  executioner,  strike 
oil'  his  hand  with  an  axe.  A  very  little  of  this  tone  is  fatal  to 
peace  and  liberty  ;    we  had  nothing  else  for  near  half  a  century. 

"Lord  GrenviXe   en  reply  to  the   Minister  of  Foreign   Relations 
at  Paris. 

"  Downing  Street,  January  4,  1S00. 
"Sir, — I  have   received    and  laid   before  the  King  the  two  let 


172  LIFE   OF   JN'APOLEON. 

ters  which  you  have  transmitted  to  me ;  and  his  Majesty,  seeing 
no  reason  to  depart  from  those  forms  which  hove  long  been  estab- 
lished in  Europe  for  transacting  business  with  Foreign  States, 
has  commanded  me  to  return,  in  his  name,  the  official  answer 
which  I  send  you  herewith  enclosed. 

I  have  the  honor  to  be,  with  high  consideration, 

"Sir,  your  most  obedient,  humble  servant, 

"  Gre.wille." 

"  Note  to  the  Minister  cf  Foreign  Relations  at  Paris. 

"  The  King  has  given  frequent  proofs  of  his  sincere  desire  for 
the  re-establishment  of  secure  and  permanent  tranquillity  in  Eu- 
rope. He  neither  is  nor  has  been  engaged  in  any  contest  for  a 
vain  and  false  glory.  lie  has  had  no  other  view  than  that  of 
maintaining,  against  all  aggression,  the  rights  and  happiness  of  his 
subjects.  For  these  he  has  contended  against  an  unprovoked  at- 
tack, and  for  the  same  objects  he  is  still  obliged  to  contend  ;  nor  can 
he  hope  that  this  necessity  could  be  removed,  by  entering  at  the 
present  moment  into  negociations  with  those  whom  a  fresh  revo- 
lution has  so  recently  placed  in  the  exercise  of  power  in  France; 
since  no  real  advantage  can  arise  from  such  negociation  to  the 
great  and  desirable  object  of  general  peace,  until  it  shall  appear 
that  those  causes  have  ceased  to  operate,  which  originally  pro- 
duced the  war,*  and  by  which  it  has  since  been  protracted,  and 
in  more  than  one  instance  renewed.  The  same  system,  to  the 
prevalence  of  which  France  justly  ascribes  all  her  present  mise- 
ries, is  that  which  has  also  involved  the  rest  of  Europe  in  a  long 

*  That  is.  the  manifestation  of  a  desire  for  peace  on  the  part  of  'he 
French  Government  has  nothing  todo  with  the  question  of  war.  so  that  their 
hostility  could  not  have  been  an,  aig  the  causes  that  produced  or  prolonged 
it.  This  is  true  :  but  instead  of  all  this  circumlocution  and  rotundity  of 
phrase,  would  it  not  have  been  better  an  1  mire  manly  fi.»r  his  Majesty  to 
h.tve<aid  at  once  that  he  had  gone  to  war  for  the  royal  cause,  which  he  sc 
broadly  bin's  at  in  the  concluding  paragraph:  and  that  till  this  object  was 
attained,  no  earthly  consideration  (save  the  last  extremity)  should  force 
him  to  make  peace — and  that  then  he  would  break  it  again  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble, and  launch  into  the  same  insane  and  fatal  career — fatal  alike,  whether 
prosperous  or  unsuccessful! 


MAREXGO.  17: 


and  destructive  warfare,  of  a  nature  long  since  unknown  to  the 
practice  of  civilized  nations.*  For  the  extension  of  this  system, 
and  fur  the  extermination  of  all  established  governments,  the  re- 
sources of  France  have  from  year  to  year,  and  in  the  midst  of  the 
must  unparalleled  distress,  been  lavished  and  exhausted"  [Thai 
is,  to  prevent  its  own  extermination].  "  To  this  indiscriminate 
spirit  of  destruction,  the  Nethei lauds,  the  United  Provinces,  the 
Swiss  Cantons  (his  Majesty's  ancient  friends  and  allies)  have  suc- 
cessively been  sacrificed.  Germany  has  been  ravaged;  Italy, 
though  now  rescued  from  its  invaders,  has  been  made  the  scene  of 
unbounded  rapine  and  anarchy. j"  His  Majesty  has  himself  been 
compelled  to  maintain  an  arduous  and  burthensome  contest  for  the 
independence  and  existence  of  his  kingdoms.  Nor  have  these 
calamities  been  confined  to  Europe  alone  ;  they  have  been  ex- 
tended to  the  most  distant  quarters  of  the  world,  and  even  to 
countries  so  remote  both  in  situation  and  interest  from  the  present 
contest,  that  the  very  existence  of  such  a  war  was  perhaps  un- 
known to  those  who  found  themselves  suddenly  involved  in  all 
its  horrors. +  While  such  a  system  continues  to  prevail,  and  while 
the  blood  and  treasure  of  a  numerous  and  powerful  nation  can  be 
lavished  in  its  support,  experience  has  shown  that  no  defence  but 
that  of  open    and   steady   hostility    can  be    availing.      The  most 

*  It  is  true  it  was  long  since  Europe  had  joined  to  force  a  people  to  sub- 
mit to  a  despotic  yoke,  for  it  was  long  since  any  people  (on  the  Continent) 
Lad  shaken  off  such  a  yoke.  The  attacks  of  all  Europe  also  gave  a  peculiar 
character  to  the  war.  by  combining  the  horrors  of  civil  discord  with  foreign 
aggression  ;  and  it  was  the  determination  of  the  French  not  to  submit  to 
this  double  blessing  as  a  gracious  boon,  that  produced  the  miseries  of  France 
and  the  resentment  of  Europe. 

t  Really  this  is  too  much,  even  for  a  State-paper.  As  if  the  French  ar- 
mies after  having  beaten  back  the  Austrian-;  and  Picdmontese.  who  wero 
coming  to  ravage  France,  wen:  to  lay  down  their  arms  or  refuse  to  set  foot 
on  a  soil  sacred  to  slavery,  or  were  not  to  advance  to  meet,  to  scatter  and 
pursue  tin  se  ever-renewed  bands  of  mercenaries  and  barbarians,  that  eamo 
on  from  the  farthest  bounds  of  Europe  like  flocks  of  ravenous  bird-,  si  eking 
a  prey,  but  bleaching  the  earth  with  their  bones  till  victory  was  sated  and 
'•sweet  revenge  grew  harsh." 

{.  These  pointed  allusions  to  Italy  and  Egypt  sound  like  personal  taunts 
thrown  out  against  Buonaparte,  in  return  for  his  having  made  so  untimely 
and  unbecoming  a  proposal  for  peace. 

15* 


.74  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

solemn  treaties  have  only  prepared  the  way  for  fresh  aggressions  , 
and  it  is  to  a  determined  resistance  alone  that  is  now  due  whatever 
remains  in  Europe  of  stability  for  property,  for  personal  liberty, 
for  social  order,  or  for  the,  free  exercise  of  religion.  For  the  se- 
curity, therefore,  of  these  essential  objects,  his  Majesty  cannot 
place  his  reliance  on  the  mere  renewal  of  general  professions  ot 
pacific  dispositions.  Such  professions  have  been  repeatedly  held 
out  by  all  those  who  have  successively  directed  the  resources  of 
France  to  the  destruction  of  Europe  !*  and  whom  the  present 
rulers  have  declared  to  have  been  all,  from  the  beginning  and  uni- 
formly, incapable  of  maintaining  the  relations  of  amity  and  pcace.\ 
Greatly,  indeed  will  his  Majesty  rejoice,  whenever  it  shall  appear 
that  the  dangers  to  which  his  own  dominions  and  those  of  his  Al- 
lies have  been  so  long  exposed  have  really  ceased;  whenever  he 
shall  be  satisfied  that  the  necessity  of  resistance  is  at  an  end  ; 
that  after  the  experience  of  so  many  years  of  crimes  and  mise- 
ries,^ better  principles  have  ultimately  prevailed  in  France  ;  and 
that  all  the  gigantic  projects  of  ambition,  and  all  the  restless 
schemes  of  destruction,  which  have  endangered  the  existence  of 
civil  society, 5>  have  been  finally  relinquished;   but  the  conviction 

*  Thisagain  is  in  the  true  character  and  keeping  with  that  besotted  pre- 
sumption, which  having  been  taught  that  it  can  do  no  wrong,  sees  and  can 
see  only  in  the  defeat  of  its  own  attempts  at  the  destruction  of  others,  a  vio- 
lent and  unprovoked  aggression  on  its  absolute  prerogative;  and  privileged 
to  confound  its  self-will  with  right  reason,  think-  it  an  unquestionable  right, 
a  sacred  duty,  to  resort  to  every  means  to  keep  that  privilege  inviolate. 

t  A  government  that  ran  carry  on  war  can  make  peace.  They  are  con- 
vertible terms.  The  changes  in  the  French  Government  did  not  prevent 
their  keeping  on  the  content,  but  they  prevented  us  from  closing  if.  by  giving 
hopes  of  their  utter  ruin.  The  factions  did  not  produce  the  war,  but  the 
war  the  factions. 

t  The  fact  of  the  crimes  and  miseries  is  undoubted:  the  cause  of  those 
crimes  and  miseries  is  the  only  thing  in  question.  Of  course  his  Majesty, 
with  proper  dignity,  repelled  any  such  imputation  from  himself  and  his 
Allies,  and  the  French  people,  by  legitimate  etiquette,  mast  pie  id  guilty  to 
the  whole.    I  am  tired  of  noMcintr  these  flimsy  bubbles,  that  expire  at  a  touch. 

\  To  wit.  a  certain  perverse  d  ^termination  not  to  uuderg)  the  fate  of  Po- 
land, an  example  which  was  not  thought  to  endanger  the  existence  of  civil 
Bociety,  though  it  fed  the  hope  which  led  to  all  those  horrors  of  which  his 
'Majesty  complains. 


MARENGO.  178 


of  such  a  change,  however  agreeable  to  his  Majesty's  wishes,  can 
result  only  from  experience  and  the  evidence  of  facts.* 

The  best  and  most  natural  pledge  of  its  reality  and  permanence 
would  be  the  restoration  of  that  line  of  Princes  which  for  so  many 
centuries  maintained  the  French  nation  in  prosperity  at  home,  and 
in  consideration  and  respect,  abroad" — [and  which,  be  it  remem- 
bered, carried  on  war  for  a  great  part  of  the  last  century  to  de- 
throne his  Majesty's  family,  on  the  very  same  principle  that  he 
wishes  to  restore  theirs]  ; — "  such  an  event  would  at  once  have  re- 
moved, and  will  at  any  time  remove,  all  obstacles  in  the  tvay  of  ne- 
gociation  or  peace.  It  would  confirm  to  France  the  unmolested 
enjoyment  of  its  ancient  territory  ;  and  it  would  give  to  all  the 
other  nations  of  Europe,  in  tranquillity  and  peace,  that  security 
which  they  are  now  compelled  to  seek  by  other  means. j"  But, 
desirable  as  such  an  event  must  be  both  to  France  and  to  the 
world,  it  is  not  to  this  mode  exclusively  that  his  Majesty  limits  the 
possibility  of  secure  and  solid  pacification.  His  Majesty  makes 
no  claim  to  prescribe  to  France  what  shall  be  the  form  of  her 
Government,  or  in  whose  hands  she  shall  vest  the  authority  ne- 
cessary for  conducting  the  affairs  of  a  great  and  powerful  nation.:}: 
His  Majesty  looks  only  to  the  security  of  his  own  dominions  and 
those  of  his  Allies,  and  to  the  general  safety  of  Europe. §     When- 

*  Let  us  look  at  the  reasonableness  of  this  favorable  alternative.  The 
change  was  to  be  effected  in  time  of  war.  Was  this  the  way  to  discourage 
or  to  foment  those  internal  dissensions  which  tore  France  in  pieces,  and 
which  canscl  those  crimes  ami  miseries  which  were  the  subject  of  so  much 
outward  lamentation  and  secret  triumph?  Peace  was  refused;  therefore 
the  French  Government  must  carry  on  the  war.  If  they  did  this  without 
judgment  or  success,  this  would  be  seized  on  as  a  motive  for  prosecuting  it 
with  double  vigor:  if  they  triumphantly  repelled  the  new  Coalition,  this 
would  In-  made  a  pretence  for  crying  out  against  fresh  projects  of  ambition 
and  aggrandizement.  There  is  no  end  of  tins,  nor  of  the  contempt  and 
odium  with  which  a  future  age  will  brand  it. 

1  It  is  with  the  existence  of  the  Republic,  not  with  its  acts,  that  the  other 
Governments  are  at  war  ;  why.  then,  charge  the  war  upon  its  acts,  except 
as  a  cover  to  the'  real  motive,  and  confessedly  a  false  one  ? 

X  Except  by  bombarding  her  towns  and  landing  expeditions  ami  brigands 
on  her  coasts,  to  restore  the  exiled  pretender. 

§  A.  mere  verbal  distinction,  if  the  two  things,  security  and  interference 
with  others  are  inseparable 


176  LIFE   OF    NAPOLEON. 

ever  he  shall  judge  that  such  security  can  in  any  manner  be 
attained  as  resulting  either  from  tiie  internal  situation  of  that 
country,  from  whose  internal  situation  the  danger  lias  risen,  or  from 
such  other  circumstances,  of  whatever  nature,  as  may  produce  the 
same  end,  his  Majesty  will  eagerly  embrace  the  opportunity  to 
concert  with  his  Allies  the  means  of  immediate  and  general 
pacification.  Unhappily  no  such  security*  hitherto  exists  ;  no 
.sufficient  evidence  of  the  principles  by  which  the  new  Govern- 
ment will  be  directed  ;  no  reasonable  ground  by  which  to  judge 
of  stability. "j"  In  tin's  situation,  it  can  for  the  present  only  remain 
for  his  Majesty  to  pursue,  in  conjunction  with  other  Powers, 
those  exertions  of  just  and  defensive  war,  which  his  regard  to  the 
happiness  of  his  subjects  will  never  permit  him  either  to  continue 
beyond  the  necessity  in  which  they  originate,  or  to  terminate  on 
any  other  grounds  than  such  as  may  best  contribute  to  the  secure 
enjoyment  of  their  tranquillity,  their  Constitution,  and  their  inde- 
pendence. 

':  Grenville. 
"Downing  street.  January  4,  liOOV' 

The  answer  to  this  thinly-varnished  declaration  was  Marengo. 
Buonaparte  was  not  the  man  to  be  stopped  by  a  specious  arrange- 
ment of  rhetorical  common-places:  he  pierced  the  web  of  hollow 
policy  attempted  to  be  woven  round  him  with  his  sword.  If  not 
peace,  then  war.  On  receiving  the  account,  he  said  to  Talley- 
rand, "  It  could  n  »t  be  more  favorable.'"'  He  had  not  yet  struck 
though  lie  meditated  the  blow,  which  made  Mr.  Put,  who  had  ad- 
vised and  reckoned  largely  on  the  continuance  of  the  war,  ex- 
claim— •'•  Shut  up  the  map  of  Europe,  it  will  be  in  vain  to 
open  it  f>r  twenty  yi         I  ne  !"      The   buttle   of  Marengo,  bv 

which  Buonaparte  broke  the  Continental  Alliance,  and  seated  him- 
self firmly  in  power,  though  perhaps  the  worst-fought,  the  m  -: 
C   ubtful  and  casual   of  all  his  viol  irii  s,  was  at  the  same  time  the 

*  No  kind  of  security  lias  b>vn  point!'."!  out. 

f  One  way  to  insure  that  object  would  be  to  let  it  alone:  but  this  there 
w  ;~  no  intenti  .  :'  ■'.  ing.  Ii  is  tine  :'  ulinir.  when  you  .'ire  determined  to 
undermine  or  knock  a  thing  in  nieces,  to  compl-.in  you  do  not  know  what 
chance  it  has  of  stability. 


MARENGO.  177 


most  daring  in  its  conception  and  fortunate  in  its  results.  A 
single  half-hour's  fighting  changed  the  fate  of  Europe.  This 
was  owing  to  the  manner  in  which  the  scene  of  action  was  laid. 
It  was  the  most  poetical  of  his  battles.  If  Ariosto,  if  a  magician 
had  planned  a  campaign,  it  could  hardly  have  been  fuller  of  the 
romantic  and  incredible.  He  had  given  wings  to  war,  hovering 
like  Perseus  in  the  air  with  borrowed  speed.  lie  fell  upon  his 
adversary  from  the  clouds,  from  pathless  precipices — and  at  the 
very  moment  of  being  beaten,  recalled  victory  with  a  word.  It 
might  be  conceived,  that  by  effecting  a  junction  with  Massena  at 
Genoa,  and  attacking  the  Austrians  in  front  in  the  ordinary  and 
obvious  course,  he  would  have  had  a  better  chance  of  victory  ; 
but  then  the  victory  could  not  have  been  so  complete  as  by 
coming  upon  the  enemy's  rear  and  cutting  oif  his  retreat,  nor 
would  it  have  had  the  same  effect  in  taking  him  by  surprise. 
Buonaparte,  situated  as  lie  was,  had  not  merely  to  win  a  battle, 
but  to  charm  opinion.  The  very  boldness  of  the  enterprise  was 
an  earnest  of  its  success;  the  slightest  reverse  would  in  such 
critical  circumstances  produce  a  panic  ;  and  the  First  Consul, 
where  another  might  have  given  up  the  day  as  lost,  held  out  with 
confidence  to  the  last,  prepared  to  take  advantage  of  every 
chance.  Faith  has  its  miracles  in  war  as  well  as  in  religion. 
Nor  is  there  quackery  in  this  ;  for  it  is  fair  to  seize  upon  the  im- 
agination of  others  and  disarm  them  of  their  presence  of  mind  as 
well  as  of  their  weapons.  The  only  danger  is,  if  this  illusion 
comes  afterwards  to  bo  dispelled  by  a  reverse  of  fortune,  both  as 
it  emboldens  others  and  disheartens  the  person  himself;  but  no 
one  ever  fought  up  against  adversity  better  than  Buonaparte  (if 
we  perhaps  except  the  first  stunning  effect  of  the  disasters  in  Rus- 
sia.) or,  divorced  from  fortune,  threw  himself  more  manfully  and 
resolutely  on  the  resources  of  his  own  genius  and  energy,  doing 
as  much  to  retrieve  his  affairs  as  he  had  done  to  advance  them. 

On  the  7th  of  January,  1800,  (three  days  after  the  date  of  the 
refusal  of  the  British  Ministry  to  treat  for  peace)  a  decree  of  the 
Consuls  directed  the  formation  of  an  annv  of  reserve.  All  the 
veteran  soldiers  were  required  to  come  forward  and  serve  the 
country  under  the  command  of  the  First  Consul.  A  levy  of 
30,000    conscripts  was  ordered   to   recruit    the    army.      General 

9* 


178  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

Berthicr,  then  Minister  at  War,  set  out  from  Paris  on  the  2d  of 
April  to  head  the  troops ;  the  forms  of  the  new  Constitution  not 
allowing  tiie  First  Consul  to  take  the  command  nominally.  No 
sooner  was  intelligence  received  of  the  commencement  of  hostili- 
ties and  the  turn  which  things  were  taking  in  that  quarter,  than 
he  judged  it  expedient  to  march  at  once  to  the  assistance  of  the 
Army  of  Italy  ;  hut  he  determined  to  cross  by  the  Great  St.  Ber- 
nard, in  order  to  take  the  army  of  Mclas  in  the  rear,  to  seize  his 
magazines,  artillery,  and  hospitals,  and  to  give  him  battle  after 
having  cut  him  oil*  from  Austria.  The  loss  of  a  single  battle 
would  ensure  the  destruction  of  his  whole  army  and  the  conquest 
of  Italy.  This  plan  required  much  boldness,  rapidity  of  execution, 
and  secrecy.  The  last  was  very  difficult  to  attain  ;  for  the  move- 
ment of  an  army  cannot  well  be  kept  a  secret.  In  order  to  con- 
ceal his  plan,  the  First  Consul  determined  to  divulge  it  himself 
so  openly,  that  the  emissaries  and  agents  of  the  Allies  were  led 
upon  a  false  scent,  and  ridiculed  the  pretended  preparations  as 
a  stratagem  to  draw  oil*  the  Austrian  Army,  which  was  block- 
ading  Genoa.  Dijon  was  pompously  pointed  out  as  the  place  of 
rendezvous,  and  it  was  said  that  Buonaparte  would  proceed  there 
to  review  the  troops,  which  he  actually  did,  though  there  were 
only  5000  or  GOOD  raw  recruits  and  retired  invalids  assembled  in 
the  town.  This  army  became  an  object  of  general  derision,  and 
caricatures  were  multiplied  on  the  subject,  one  of  which  repre- 
sented a  boy  of  twelve  years  old  and  an  invalid  with  a  wooden 
leg,  under  which  was  written  "  Buonaparte's  Army  of  Reserve." 
Thus  atlectcd  ridicule  and  contempt  were  the  weapons  with  which 
they  began,  and  by  being  persevered  in  throughout,  succeeded  at 
last,  for  greatness  sustains  itsell  by  an  eilbrt,  hut.  sinks  easily  to 
the   level  of  the  meanness  and  littleness  of  mankind  ! 

.Meantime  the  real  Army  of  Reserve  had  been  firmed,  and  was- 
readv  to  march.  La  Vendee  having  been  pacilied  under  the 
Consular  Government,  a  considerable  portion  of  the  troops  was 
drawn  without  inconvenience  from  that,  country.  The  regiments 
composing  the  guard  of  the  Directory  were  no  longer  required  to 
keep  things  quiet  at  Paris  and  went  to  join  the  army.  Many  of 
these  regiments  had  not  served  in  the  disastrous  campaign  of 
V7!J9,  and  retained  their  spirit   and  confidence   unimpaired.       The 


MARENGO.  178 


artillery  was  sent  piecemeal  from  various  arsenals  and  garrisons. 
The  greater  part  of  the  provisions,  necessary  to  an  army  which 
had  to  cross  barren  mountains  where  nothing  eatable  was  to  be 
met  with,  were  forwarded  to  Geneva,  embarked  upon  the  Lake, 
and  laftded  at  Villeneuve,  near  the  entrance  of  the  valley  of  the 
Simplon.  On  the  6th  of  May  the  First  Consul  left  Paris  for 
Dijon,  and  arrived  at  Geneva  on  the  8th.  He  here  had  an  in- 
terview wkh  the  celebrated  Necker,  who  strove  to  recommend 
himself  to  his  favor,  but  with  little  success.  He  praised  the  mili- 
tary preparations  going  on  much,  and  himself  more.  On  the  13th 
of  May,  Buonaparte  reviewed  the  vanguard  of  the  Army  of  Reserve 
at  Lausanne,  commanded  by  General  Lannes ;  it  consisted  of 
six  old  regiments  of  chosen  troops,  perfectly  clothed,  equipped,  and 
appointed.  It  moved  immediately  forward  to  St.  Pierre  ;  the  di- 
visions followed  in  echelon,  amounting  in  all  to  30,000  fighting 
men,  with  a  park  of  forty  guns,  and  under  the  command  of  Victor, 
Loison,  Aratrin,  Boudet,  Chambarlhac,  Murat,  and  Monnier. 
There  is  a  road  practicable  for  artillery  from  Lausanne  to  St. 
Pierre,  a  village  at  the  foot  of  the  St.  Bernard,  and  from  St.  Remi 
to  Aosta  on  the  other  side.  The  difficulty  then  lay  in  the  ascent 
and  descent  of  the  Great  St.  Bernard,  a  difficulty  so  great  as  to 
appear  nearly  insurmountable.  General  Marescot  had  been  sent 
to  reconnoitre  ;  and  on  his  reporting  that  the  passage  seemed 
barely  possible,  Buonaparte  replied,  "  Let  us  set  forward  then." 
The  way  over  Mount  Cenis  presented  the  same  obstacles,  and  the 
countrv  beyond  was  more  open  and  exposed  to  the  enemy.  There 
is  only  a  rugged  mountain-path  over  the  St.  Bernard,  which  often 
winds  over  almost  inaccessible  precipices.  The  passage  of  the 
artillery  was  the  most  arduous  task.  The  guns  had  been  taken 
in  pieces,  and  the  carriages,  the  ammunition,  together  with  the  car- 
tridges for  the  infantry  and  mountain-forges,  werctransportedon  the 
backs  of  mules.  But  how  get  the.  pieces  themselves  over  ?  For  this 
purpose,  a  number  of  trunks  of  trees,  hollowed  out  for  the  recep- 
tion of  the  guns,  which  were  fastened  into  them  by  their  trun- 
nions, had  been  prepared  beforehand;  to  every  piece  thus  secured 
a  hundred  soldiers  were  attached,  who  had  to  drag  them  up  the 
steeps.  All  this  was  carried  into  effect  so  promptly  that  the 
march  of  the  artillery  caused  no  delay.      The  troops  themselves 


ISO  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

made  it  a  point  of  honor  to  be  foremost  in  this  new  kind  of  duty  ; 
and  one  entire  division  chose  to  bivouac  on  the  summit  of  the 
mountain  in  the  midst  of  snow  and  excessive  cold,  rather  than 
leave  their  artillery  behind  them.  Throughout  the  whole  passage 
the  military  bands  played,  and  at  the  most  difficult  spots  the 
charge  was  beaten  to  give  fresh  animation  to  the  soldiers  ;  while 
the  cry  of  the  eagle  was  faintly  heard,  and  the  wild  goat  turned 
to  gaze  at  so  unusual  a  sight.  Field-forges  were  established  at 
the  villages  of  St.  Pierre  and  St.  Remi  for  dismounting  and 
mounting  the  artillery.  The  army  succeeded  in  getting  a  hun- 
dred waggons  over. 

On  the  10th  of  May  the  First  Consul  slept  at  the  convent  of 
St.  Maurice,  and  the  whole  army  passed  the  St.  Bernard  on  the 
17th,  18th,  19th,  and  20th  of  May.  Buonaparte  himself  crossed 
on  the  20th,  either  on  foot  or  riding  a  mule  belonging  to  one  of 
the  inhabitants  of  St.  Pierre,  which  the  Prior  of  the  convent  had 
recommended  as  the  most  sure-footed  in  all  the  countrv.  His 
guide  the  whole  way  was  a  tall  robust  youth  of  twentv-two,  who 
conversed  freely  with  him,  answering  the  questions  that  were  put 
to  him,  and  confiding  all  his  troubles  to  the  First  Consul  with 
the  simplicity  of  his  age  and  situation  in  life.  Xapolcon  took  no 
notice  of  Ills  distresses,  hut  on  parting  with  him,  gave  him  a  notfi 
to  the  superiors  of  the  convent  ;  and  the  next  day,  he  was  sur- 
prised to  find  himself  in  possess!  >n  of  a  house,  a  piece  of  ground, 
and  of  all  he  wanted. — The  First  Consul  rested  an  hour  at  the 
convent  of  the  Hospitallers,  at  the  top  of  the  Great  St.  Bernard, 
and  performed  the  descent  on  a  sledge  down  an  almost  perpen- 
dicular glacier.  The  horses  had  more  difticultv  in  descending 
than  in  ascending,  though  tew  accidents  happened.  The  monks 
of  the  convent  were  well  provided  with  stores  of  wine,  bread  and 
cheese  ;  and  each  soldier  as  he  passed  received  a  large  ration 
from  the  good  father-. 

On  the  10th  General  Lannes  arrived  with  the  vanguard  at 
Aosta,  a  town  abounding  in  resources,  and  on  the  17th  reached 
1  )  '  m,  where  he  attacked  and  routed  a  corps  of  4000  or  5000 

Austrians,  who  had  been  stationed  there  for  the  defence  of  the 
place.  The  army  thought  every  obstacle  had  been  surmounted  ; 
it   was   marching   through   a   fine  valley,  with   plenty  of  every 


MARENGO.  181 


thing,  and  mild  weather,  when  all  at  once  its  progress  was 
stopped  by  the  appearance  of  Fort  Bard  ;  an  interruption  which 
was  quite  unlooked-for,  but  which  had  liked  to  have  proved  fatal. 
This  fort  is  situated  between  Aosta  and  Ivrea  upon  a  conical  hill 
and  between  two  mountains  at  fifty  yards  distance  from  each 
other;  at  its  foot  flows  the  river  Doria,  the  valley  of  which  it 
absolutely  bars;  the  road  passes  through  the  fortifications  of  the 
town,  which  is  walled,  and  is  commanded  by  the  fire  of  the  fort. 
The  engineer-officers  of  the  vanguard  who  approached  to  recon- 
noitre, reported  that  there  was  no  passage  except  through  the 
town ;  and  General  Lannes  having  attempted  a  coup-de-main 
which  failed,  the  panic  spread  rapidly  in  the  rear,  and  orders 
were  even  given  for  stopping  the  passage  of  the  artillery  over  the 
St.  Bernard.  But  the  First  Consul,  who  was  at  Aosta,  immedi- 
ately repaired  to  Fort  Bard,  climbed  up  the  rock  of  Albaredo  on 
the  left-hand  mountain,  which  overlooks  both  the  fort  and  the 
town,  and  soon  discovered  the  possibility  of  taking  the  latter. 
There  was  no  time  to  be  lost  :  on  the  25th  at  night-fall  the  58th 
demi-brigade,  led  by  Dufour,  scaled  the  wall  and  gained  posses- 
sion of  the  town,  which  is  only  separated  from  the  fort  by  the 
stream  of  the  Doria.  During  the  night  the  fort  poured  grape- 
shot  at  half  musket-distance  upon  the  French,  but  without  dis- 
lodging them  ;  and  at  last  the  fire  ceased,  out  of  regard  to  the 
inhabitants. 

The  infantry  and  cavalry  passed  one  by  one  up  the  path  of 
the  mountain,  the  same  which  the  First  Consul  had  climbed,  and 
which  had  hitherto  been  trod  only  by  goatherds.  On  the  follow- 
ing night  the  artillery-officers  and  gunners  took  their  guns 
through  the  town,  using  every  precaution  to  hide  the  knowledge 
of  the  circumstances  from  the  Commandant  of  the  fort  :  the  road 
was  covered  witli  litter  and  dung,  and  the  pieces  concealed  under 
brandies  of  trees  and  straw,  were  drawn  bv  men  with  cords  in 
the  most  profound  silence.  Thus  was  a  space  of  several  hun- 
dred yards  traversed,  close  under  the  batteries  of  the  fort.  The 
garrison,  though  suspecting  nothing,  made  occasional  discharges, 
which  killed  or  wounded  a  number  of  gunners  ;  but  did  not  damp 
the  general  zeal.  The  fort  did  not  surrender  till  the  1st  of  June, 
the   French    at  that  time  having   planted   several  cannon  on  the 

10 


182  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

Albaredo,  which  thundered  on  the  batteries  below.  Had  the 
passing  of  the  artillery  been  -delayed  till  the  capture  of  the  fort, 
the  chief  hopes  of  the  campaign  would  have  been  lost.  Thus 
do  the  greatest  events  depend  on  the  most  trifling  causes;  and 
so  little  would  the  best-laid  schemes  avail  without  presence  of 
mind  in  the  execution  and  ingenuity  in  providing  for  casualties 
as  they  arise  ! — The  First  Consul  knew  of  the  existence  of  Fort 
Bard,  but  believed  it  to  be  of  no  importance.  The  Commandant 
dispatched  letter  after  letter  to  Melas  to  infirm  him  of  the  march 
of  a  large  army  with  cavalry  by  a  path  of  steps  in  the  rock  on 
his  right,  but  assured  him  that  not  a  single  waggon  or  cannon 
should  follow  ;  and  on  the  surrender  of  the  fort,  the  officers  were 
surprised  to  learn  the  manner  in  which  the  whole  French  artil- 
lery luu!  passed  within  pistol-shot  of  them.  Had  it  been  imprac- 
ticable to  convey  the  artillery  through  the  town,  the  First  Consul 
would  have  taken  up  a  position  at  the  entrance  of  the  passes  at 
Ivrea  (which  would  have  forced  Melas  to  fall  back  from  Nice) 
and  there  awaited  the  taking  of  the  fort. 

Meantime,  from  the  1st  of  Mav,  Melas  had  been  marching 
troops  on  Turin,  which  he  entered  in  person  on  the  22d.  On  the 
game  day  the  French  General  Turreau  attacked  the  outposts  on 
Mount  Cenis  with  3000  men,  made  himself  master  of  it  and  tooK 
up  a  position  between  Susa  and  Turin,  which  gave  the  Austrian 
General  some  uneasiness.  On  the  24th  Lannes  arrived  before 
Ivrea,  which  being  defended  chiefly  by  cavalry  or  the  troop? 
which  had  been  beaten  at  Chatillon,  he  easily  took  it,  the  enemy 
retiring  behind  the  Chiusella  to  Romano,  whence  lie  was  driven  two 
davs  after  in  disorder  upon  Turin.  The  advanced  guard  imme- 
diately took  po^scssi  u  of  Chivasso,  whence  it  intercepted  the 
passage  of  the  J'",  and  seized  a  great  many  boats  laden  with  pro- 
is  and  wounded  soldier-;;  and  where  on  the  2Sth  Buonaparte 
reviewed  the  vanguard,  harangued  and  bestowed  merited  eulo- 
giums  on  the  corps  that  composed  it.  A  feint  having  been  made 
to  throw  a  bridge  of  boats  over  the  I'm.  Midas  weakened  his  troops 
covering  Turin  and  detached  a  larcrc  part  of  his  forces  to  the 
I'iirht  bank  of  that  river  to  oppose  the  constructing  of  the  bridge. 
Tins  aavc  the  First  Consul  an  opportunity  to  operate  upon  Milan 
unmolested.     An  Austrian  officer  who  was  known  to  Buonaparte, 


MARENGO.  183 


came  to  have  a  parley  at  the  outposts  ;  the  intelligence  he  car- 
ried back  to  Melas  had  the  effect  of  a  thunderbolt  upon  him.  The 
whole  Army  of  Reserve,  with  its  artillery,  arrived  at  Ivrea  on 
the  26th  and  27th  of  May.  A  corps  of  2000  Italian  refugees,  un- 
der General  Lecchi,  had  on  the  21st  moved  from  Chatillon  upon 
the  Upper  Sesia,  met  with  the  legion  of  Rohan,  which  it  defeated, 
and  taken  up  a  position  in  the  valley  of  Domo  d'  Ossola  to  se- 
cure the  passes  of  the  Simplon.  Murat  was  at  Vercelli ;  and 
Moncey's  corps  with  15000  men  detached  from  the  Army  of  the 
Rhine,  reached  Belinzona,  on  the  31st  of  May. 

The  head-quarters  of  the  Austrian  army  were  at  Turin,  but 
half  the  forces  were  at  Genoa,  or  scattered  in  the  Col  di  Tende.  In 
these  circumstances  three  courses  were  open  to  Buonaparte. 
First,  to  march  upon  Turin,  repulse  Melas,  join  Turreau  and 
open  a  communication  with  France :  but  this  would  be  to  risk  a 
battle  with  a  formidable  enemy  without  a  certain  retreat,  Fort 
Bard  not  being  yet  taken.  Secondly,  he  might  pass  the  Po,  and 
join  Massena  under  the  walls  of  Genoa;  but  this  would  be  liable 
to  the  same  objection  without  any  general  object.  Thirdly,  he 
might  leave  Melas  behind,  retire  upon  Milan,  and  there  join  Mon- 
cey,  who  had  just  debouched  by  the  St.  Gothard.  The  last  plan 
was  the  most  eligible,  and  that  which  he  fixed  upon.  For  by 
being  once  in  possession  of  Milan,  he  could  secure  all  the  maga- 
zines, depots,  and  hospitals  of  the  enemy's  army;  give  him  battle 
with  this  incalculable  advantage,  that  if  beaten,  he  would  have 
no  retreat,  while  his  own  would  be  safe  by  the  Simplon  and  St. 
Gothard;  or  if  he  chose,  he  might  let  Melas  pass  uninterrupted, 
and  he  would  thus  without  striking  a  blow  remain  master  of 
Lombanly,  Piedmont,  the  territory  of  Genoa,  and  raise  the  block- 
ade of  that  capital.  The  Simplon  led  to  the  \Talais  and  Sion, 
whither  the  magazines  of  the  French  army  had  been  forwarded. 
The  St.  Gothard  led  into  Switzerland,  which  was  covered  by  the 
Army  of  the  Rhine  then  upon  the  Iller,  and  which  had  been  for 
some  time  in  possession  of  the  French,  such  precautions  affording 
too  strong  a  temptation  to  a  people  that  are  declared  to  be  in- 
capable of  maintaining  the  usual  relations  of  peace  and  amity! 

On  the  31st  of  May  the  First  Consul    moved   rapidly  upon   the 
Ticino ;   and  after  a  sharp  resistance  by  the  Austrian  strangling 


184  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON 

troops  (General  Girard  being;  the  first  to  pass  the  river)  the  object 
was  effected  by  the  help  of  four  small  boats.  He  entered  Milan 
on  the  2d  of  June  amidst  the  general  rejoicing  of  the  inhabitants, 
who  were  surprised  at  seeing  him  at  the  head  of  the  troops,  it 
having  been  reported  that  he  had  perished  in  the  Red  Sea.  He 
remained  here  for  six  days,  receiving  deputations  and  showing 
himself  to  the  people,  who  welcomed  him  as  their  liberator.  The 
government  of  the  Cisalpine  Republic  was  restored  ;  but  a  con- 
siderable number  of  the  warmest  Italian  patriots  languished  in  the 
dungeons  of  Austria.  How  many  more  groan  thereat  present! 
A  proclamation  was  addressed  to  the  army,  promising  them  as  the 
result  of  their  efforts  ■•  unclouded  glory  and  solid  peace."  Gen- 
eral  Moncey's  division  came  slowly  up.  The  First  Consul  re- 
viewed them  on  the  6th  and  7th  of  June,  and  on  the  9th  set  out 
for  Pavia,  which  Latinos  had  occupied  on  the  1st,  as  Duhesme's 
division  had  entered  Lodi  and  Mantua  without  opposition  just 
after.  Murat  surprised  Placenza  by  a  coup-de-main,  and  intei- 
cepted  a  dispatch  from  Vienna  full  of  the  most  groundless  reports. 
Fort  Bard  had  fallen  on  the  l^t. 

Melas  now  quitted  Turin  and  appeared  to  direct  his  march  on 
Alexandria  to  the  right  of  the  Po.  The  First  Consul  therefore 
detached  Lapoype's  division  to  line  the  Po  from  Pavia  to  the 
Doria  Baltea,  and  to  watch  the  side  opposite  Placenza  ;  deter. 
mining  himself  to  move  on  Stradella,  in  order  to  cut  off  Melas 
from  the  road  to  Mantua  and  c  >mpel  him  to  receive  battle  with 
his  line  of  operations  intersected  by  that  river.  General  Lannes 
passed  on  the  Gth  at  Belgiojoso,  opposite  Pavia  ;  on  the  8th  Murat 
left  Placenza,  defeated  an  Austrian  corps  which  had  come  up  to 
attack  him,  and  moved  on  Stradella,  where  the  whole  army  was 
uniting.  In  the  midst  of  these  preparations,  news  came  of  the 
taking  of  Genoa,  which  had  surrendered  on  the  4th.  Besieged 
bv  the  Austrians  by  land  and  blockaded  by  the  English  Admiral 
)  by  sea,  it  had  been  pressed  by  famine;  the  inhabitants 
gn-w  impatient,  and  on  the  2<\  of  June  the  women  assembled  tu- 
multu  lUsly,  demanding  "Bread  or  deatli  !"'  Every  thing  was  to 
be  apprehended  from  hunger  and  despair:  and  Massena  pro- 
mised, if  he  were  not  relieved  by  the  approach  of  some  of  Napo- 
leon's troops  in  twenty-four  hours,  to  capitulate.     The  next  day 


MARENGO.  18-) 


Adjutant-General  Andrieux,  who  was  sent  to  General  Ott  to 
treat  for  the  evacuation  of  the  place,  met  an  Austrian  staff 
officer  in  the  General's  ante-chamber  who  was  the  bearer  of  a 
dispatch  from  Melas  to  raise  the  siege  and  to  proceed  in  all  haste 
upon  the  Po.  Thus  critically  situated,  he  was  glad  to  accede  to 
Massena's  proposals,  and  to  let  the  French  garrison  of  10,000 
men  march  out  with  their  arms  and  baggage.  Napoleon  blames 
him  for  not  marching  at  their  head  to  join  Suchet  at  Voltri  and 
then  facing  about  to  attack  the  rear  of  the  Austrians;  but  not 
knowing  the  real  state  of  affairs,  he  had  agreed  to  let  them  pass 
out  without  a  leader,  and  proceeded  himself  with  1600  men  in 
vessels  to  Antibes.  Napoleon  therefore  had  now  to  trust  to  him- 
self alone.  Ott  left  Hohenzollern  in  command  of  Genoa,  and 
came  up  by  forced  marches  to  join  the  main  body  of  the  Austrian 
army  on  the  Po.  This  reinforcement  amounted  to  thirty  battal- 
ions or  about  18,000  men.  Ott's  grenadiers,  which  formed  part 
of  it,  were  accounted  the  flower  of  the  Austrian  troops. 

On  the  evening  of  the  8th,  the  enemy's  scouts  came  to  observe 
the  French  bivouacs  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Po.  General  Lan- 
nes  with  the  whole  French  vanguard  routed  a  body  of  4000  or 
5000  Austrians  who  advanced  to  attack  him,  not  supposing  the 
whole  army  to  have  crossed  over  ;  and  at  night  he  took  up  a  posi- 
tion in  view  of  the  Austrian  camp  which  occupied  Montebello 
and  Casteggio.  He  had  no  inducement  to  make  an  attack,  hav- 
ing only  8000  men,  and  expecting  reinforcements  from  Victor's 
division  which  was  only  three  leagues  off;  but  the  Austrian 
General  brought  on  the  battle  at  day-break.  The  contest  was 
bloody.  Lannes  as  well  as  the  troops  under  him  behaved  with 
the  greatest  intrepidity.  About  mid-day  Victor  came  up  and  de- 
cided the  event.  The  field  of  battle  was  strewed  with  the  dead. 
The  Austrians  fought  desperately,  being  sensible  of  the  danger 
they  were  in,  and  still  bearing  in  mind  the  successes  of  the  last 
campaign.  They  lost  a  great  number  of  killed  and  prisoners. 
When  the  First  Consul  arrived  on  the  ground,  every  thing  was 
over.  The  troops,  though  worn  out  with  fatigue,  were  overjoyed 
at  their  success.  On  the  10th,  11th,  and  12th  Buonaparte  re- 
mained at  Stradella,  getting  his  army  together,  and  securing  it? 

retreat  by  throwing  twc  bridges  across  the  Po.     He  sent  messen 

16* 


1SG  LIFE   OF    NAPOLEON. 


gers  to  Suchet  to  hasten  his  march  upon  the  Scrivia.  There  was 
now  nothing  to  hurry  him,  Genoa  having  fallen.  It  was  dangerous 
to  descend  into  the  plain  of  Marengo  to  engage  the  enemy,  who 
were  greatly  superior  in  cavalry  and  artillery,  which  could  do 
little  against  his  position  at  Stradella,  with  the  Po  and  the  adjoin- 
ing marshes  on  his  right,  large  villages  in  front,  and  considerable 
eminences  to  the  left.  During  the  battle  of  the  11th,  Desaix, 
who  had  returned  from  Egypt  and  had  been  performing  quaran- 
tine at  Toulon,  arrived  at  the  head-quarters  at  Montebello,  with 
Rapp  and  Savary.  The  whole  night  was  spent  in  conferences 
between  him  and  the  First  Consul  on  all  that  had  passed  in  Egypt 
since  the  latter  had  quitted  it — the  ncgociations  of  El-Arisch,  the 
composition  of  the  Grand  Vizier's  army,  and  the  battle  of  Helio- 
polis.  Uesaix  burned  with  eagerness  to  distinguish  himself:  ho 
was  immediately  entrusted  with  the  command  of  the  division  oi 
Boudet. 

Melas  had  his  head-quarters  and  his  whole  army  at  Alexandria. 
He  did  not  move,  though  his  situation  was  critical  and  became 
more  so  every  day,  with  Suchet  in  his  rear  and  Buonaparte  oppo- 
sed to  him  in  front  with  an  imposing  force,  lie  might,  however, 
either  cut  his  way  through  the  First  Consul's  army  with  superior 
numbers  ;  or  reach  Milan  by  swift  marches  on  the  left  bank  of 
the  Po,  before  the  French  could  re-cross  that  river;  or  retreat 
upon  Genoa,  join  the  English  squadron,  and  regain  Mantua  and 
the  Adige  by  the  ports  of  Italy.  It  was  in  providing  against  these 
various  chances  (some  of  which  probably  never  entered  Melas's 
head)  that  Napoleon  nearly  lost  the  buttle  of  Marengo  as  he  after- 
wards did  that  of  Waterloo,  by  dividing  his  attention  with  over- 
jealous  importunity  over  all  that  was  possible,  instead  of  confining 
his  of  Forts  to  the  main  point.  When  all  is  at  stake,  it  is  better  to 
guard  against  the  worst  than  to  aim  at  the  utmost  poinl  of  perfec- 
tion. In  consequence,  General  Lapoype  was  ordered  to  fall  back 
upon  the  Ticino,  to  intercept  the  enemy,  should  he  be  moving  ir 
that  direction,  and  Desaix  was  dispatched  to  the  extreme  left 
observe  the  high-road  from  Alexandria  to  Novi  ;  while  Buona 
parte,  uneasy  at  Melas's  inaction,  crossed  the  Scrivia  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  13th,  and  marched  to  San  Juliano  in  the  midst  of  the 
plain  of  Marengo,  in  vain  looking  for  an  enemy  there.     He  slept 


MARENGO.  1S7 


/hat  night  at  Torre  di  Garafola.  Melas  hearing  of  the  advance 
of  the  French  into  the  plain,  recalled  a  detachment  which  he  had 
sent  against  Sachet.  The  night  of  the  12th  was  passed  in  coun- 
cil. The  blame  of  their  situation  was  thrown  upon  the  Austrian 
cabinet,  who  had  listened  to  none  but  idle  rumors  ;  but  they  de- 
termined to  fight  their  way  out  of  it  with  arms  in  their  hands. 
The  chances  were  greatly  in  favor  of  the  Austrians,  who  were 
superior  in  numbers  and  had  three  times  as  many  cavalry  as  the 
French.  The  latter  amounted  to  between  23,00J  and  3J,0J0 
men. 

On  the  14th  at  break  of  day,  the  Austrians  defded  by  the 
bridges  of  the  Bormida  and  made  a  furious  attack  on  the  village 
of  Marengo,  where  Victor  had  established  himself  the  day  before. 
The  resistance  was  obstinate  for  a  long  time.  Buonaparte  at  the 
first  sound  of  the  cannon  instantly  sent  orders  to  General  Desaix, 
who  was  half  a  day's  march  to  the  left,  to  return  with  his  troops 
to  San  Juliano.  The  First  Consul  arrived  on  the  field  of  battle 
at  ten  in  the  morning,  just  as  the  Austrians  had  carried  Marengo 
and  Victor's  division,  after  a  gallant  defence,  was  giving  wav  in 
the  utmost  disorder,  the  fugitives  covering  the  plain,  and  crying 
out  in  dismay,  '•  All  is  List !"  The  enemy  having  taken  Marengo 
advanced  against  General  Lannes  who  was  stationed  in  the  rear 
of  the  village,  and  formed  in  line  opposite  the  right  wing  of  the 
French,  already  extending  beyond  it.  The  First  Consul  imme- 
diately ordered  800  grenadiers  of  the  cavalry-guard,  the  best 
troops  in  the  army,  to  station  themselves  a  thousand  yards  be- 
hind Lannes,  inclining  to  the  right,  in  a  good  position  to  keep  the 
enemy  in  check  ;  and  directed  the  division  of  Cara  St.  Cvr  still 
farther  on  to  Castel-Ceriolo,  so  as  to  flank  the  entire  left  of  the 
enemy,  while  he  himself  with  the  72d  demi-brigade  hastened  to 
the  support  of  Lannes.  In  the  mean  time,  the  soldiers  perceiv- 
ing tin'  First  Consul,  in  the  midst  of  this  immense  plain,  sur- 
rounded by  his  staff  and  200  horse-grenadiers  with  their  fur  caps, 
the  sight  revived  their  hopes,  and  the  fugitives  of  Victor's  corps 
rallied  near  San  Juliano  in  the  rear  of  General  Lannes's  left. 
The  latter,  though  attacked  by  the  main  b  >dy  of  the  enemy's  force, 
fought  with  such  bravery  and  coolness  that  he  took  Three  hours 
to  retreat  only  three  quarters  of  a  league,  exposed  to  the  grape- 


IS8  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

shot  of  eighty  pieces  of  cannon  ;  at  the  same  time  that  Cara  St 
Cyr  hy  an  inverse  movement  advanced  upon  the  extreme  rightj 
and  tinned  the  left  of  the  Austrian  line. 

About  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  corps  of  Desaix  came 
up.  On  seeing  the  disorder  of  the  troops,  he  said,  "Well,  it  is  a 
buttle  lost  !:'  Buonaparte  replied,  "  I  think  it  is  a  battle  gained." 
lie  made  Desaix  take  a  position  in  front  of  San  Juliano.  Melas 
who  believed  the  victory  decided,  withdrew  to  Alexandria,  over- 
come with  fatigue,  and  left  General  Zach  to  finish  the  pursuit  of 
the  French  arm  v.  The  latter,  thinking  that  this  army  was  effec- 
ting its  retreat  by  the  road  from  Tortona,  directed  all  his  efforts 
to  reach  that  place  before  them  by  carrying  San  Juliano  at  the 
point  of  the  bayonet;  though,  had  retreat  been  necessary,  Buona- 
parte had  at  the  commencement  of  the  action  ordered  it  between 
Tortona  and  Sain,  and  the  Tortona  road  was  of  no  importance. 
The  division  of  Victor  had  now  rallied,  and  showed  signs  of  im- 
patience to  renew  the  contest.  All  the  cavalry  was  collected  be- 
fore San  Juliano.  on  Desaix's  right  and  Lannes's  left.  Balls  and 
shells  showered  into  the  place  ;  and  Zach  had  already  gained 
possession  of  a  part  of  it  with  a  column  of  G060  grenadiers.  The 
First  Consul  gave  orders  to  General  Desaix  to  charge  this  column 
with  his  fresh  troops.  He  proceeded  to  do  so  accordingly;  but 
as  he  advanced  at  the  head  of  a  troop  of  200  men,  he  was  shot 
through  the  heart  by  a  ball,  and  fell  dead  at  the  instant  he  had 
given  the  word  to  charge.  By  his  death  Napoleon  was  deprived 
of  the  man  whom  he  esteemed  most  worthy  to  be  his  second  in. 
the  field.  He  shed  tears  for  his  loss,  never  speaking  of  him  after- 
wards without  regret;  and  he,  was  one  of  those  who  lie  believed 
would  have  remained  faithful  to  him  to  the  last.  Ilis  death  did 
not  disconcert  the  troops,  but  inspired  them  with  greater  ardor  to 
avenge  it.  General  Boudet  led  them  on.  The  9th  light  demi- 
brigadc  did  indeed  prove  itself  worthy  of  the  title  of  Incomparable. 
General  Kellermann  with  800  heavy  horse  at  the  same  moment 
boldly  charged  the  middle  of  the  left  Hank  of  the  column,  cut  it 
in  two,  and  in  .less  than  half  an  hour  these  G000  grenadiers  were 
broken,  dispersed,  and  put  to  flight.  General  Zach  and  all  his 
EfafF  were  made  prisoners. 

Lannes  immediately  charged  forward.     Cara  St  Cyr,  who  was 


MARENGO.  m 


to  the  right  and  flanked  the  enemy's  left,  was  nearer  the  bridges 
of  the  Bormida  than  they  were.  The  Austrian  army  was  thrown 
into  the  utmost  confusion  and  only  thought  of  flight.  From  S000 
to  10,000  cavalry  spread  over  the  field,  fearing  St  Cyr's  infantry 
might  reach  the  bridge  before  them,  retreated  at  full  gallop,  over- 
turning all  in  their  way.  Victor's  division  made  all  imaginable 
speed  to  resume  its  former  position  at  the  village  of  Marengo. 
The  pressure  and  confusion  at  the  bridges  of  the  Bormida  was 
extreme,  and  all  who  could  not  pass  over  fell  into  the  power  of 
ttie  victor.  It  would  be  difficult  to  describe  the  astonishment 
and  dismay  of  the  Austrian  army  at  this  sudden  change  of  for- 
tune. General  Melas,  having  no  other  resource,  gave  his  troops 
the  whole  night  to  rally  and  take  some  repose,  and  the  next  morn- 
ing at  day-break  sent  a  flag  of  truce  with  proposals  for  an  ar- 
mistice, by  which  the  same  day  Genoa  and  all  the  fortified  places 
in  Piedmont,  Lombardy,  and  the  Legations  were  given  up  to 
the  French  army,  and  by  which  the  Austrian  army  obtained 
leave  to  retire  behind  Mantua  without  being  made  prisoners  of 
war.  Thus  was  the  conquest  of  all  Italy  achieved  by  a  single 
bl6V. 

Melas  obtained  such  favorable  terms  from  an  apprehension  that 
in  case  of  a  refusal  he  might  still  effect  his  junction  with  the 
English  Army  of  20,01)0  men  who  had  just  arrived  off  Genoa 
and  the  Austrian  garrison  of  10,000  men  at  that  place,  and  be- 
cause the  French  had  no  strong  places  in  Italy.  General  Suchet 
marched  upon  Genoa  and  entered  that  city  on  the  24th  of  June, 
which  was  given  up  to  him  by  Prince  Hohenzollern  to  the  great 
mortification  of  our  troops  who  had  come  in  sight  of  the  port. 
The  Italian  fortresses  were  successively  given  up  to  the  French, 
and  Melas  passed  with  his  army  through  Strabella  and  Placenza 
and  took  up  a  posi'non  behind  Mantua.  Soon  after  the  battle  of 
Marengo,  the  Italian  patriots  were  released  from  the  Austrian  pris- 
ons and  returned  home  amidst  the  congratulations  of  their  coun- 
trymen and  cries  of  ''•  Long  Jive  the  Liberator  of  Italy/"  There 
were  no  Italians  thrown  into  prison  in  Buonaparte's  time.  Either 
therefore  the  Italians  must  have  been  more  favorably  inclined  to 
the  new  order  of  things  or  his  rule  was  much  milder  than  the 
Austrian.     Buonaparte  set  out  from  Marengo  for  Milan  on    the 


•90  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

17th;  he  found  the  city  illuminated,  and  a  scene  of  the  most  ani. 
mated  rejoicings  at  the  change  which  had  taken  place.  Genoa 
recovered  its  Republican  form  of  government.  The  Austrians 
when  in  possession  of  Piedmont  had  not  reinstated  the  King  of 
Sardinia  on  his  throne,  notwithstanding  the  expostulations  of  the 
Russians,  nor  allowed  him  to  approach  Turin.  The  First  Consul 
established  a  provincial  government  in  Piedmont,  and  appointed 
General  Jourdan  to  superintend  it,  in  order  to  give  him  a  mark 
of  his  confidence,  and  efface  old  misunderstandings.  Massena, 
notwithstanding  his  unlucky  surrender  of  Genoa,  and  as  an  ac- 
knowledgment of  his  services  at  the  battle  of  Zurich,  was  left  in 
the  chief  command  of  the  Army  of  Italy. 

In  France  the  news  of  the  battle  of  Marengo  was  at  first 
scarcely  credited.  The  first  account  that  reached  Paris  was 
orought  by  a  commercial  express  who  had  set  out  from  the  field 
of  battle  between  ten  and  twelve  o'clock,  and  reported  that  the 
French  Army  had  been  totally  defeated.  This  only  made  the 
contrast  more  striking,  when  the  victory  over  the  enemy  was 
made  known  with  all  its  attendant  advantages  to  the  Republic. 
But  can  it  be  believed  (as  is  said)  that  on  this  mere  report  of  a 
defeat  all  the  intriguers  were  in  motion  to  displace  the  First  Con- 
sul and  place  Carnot  at  the  head  of  the  government  in  his  stead  ? 
Oh  !  ever  prone  to  run  before  opinion,  and  to  rivet  disgrace  upon 
themselves  by  shrinking  from  all  participation  in  misfortune!  It 
mav  be  supposed  that  Buonaparte  took  no  slight  umbrage  at  this 
me  litated  dereliction,  and  looked  gloomy  on  his  return  amidst  all 
the  lustre  which  wreathed  his  brow,  perhaps  presaging  future  dis- 
loyalty, or  brooding  over  sweet  and  bitter  thoughts  of  the  curbs 
which  a  people  required!  lie  is  said  from  this  time  to  have 
conceived  a  jeal  ju-y  and  distaste  to  Carnot,  which  subsequent 
bickerings  did  not  diminish.  They  came'  together  at  last  in  the 
common  calls',  in  the  pass  of  Thermopylae  .  This  storv  however 
re^ts  on  no  good  authority,  though  it  is  not  improbable  in  itself. 
The  so!  liers  of  the  Army  of  the  Rhine  when  they  heard  of  the 
battle  of  Marengo  were  ashamed  of  having  done  so  little,  and 
avowed  ,i  n  tble  emulat:  hi  not  to  lav  down  their  arms  till  they  had 
done  something  to  match  it.  The  battle  of  Ilohenlinden  followed 
nol  1  .'M_r  after.      Moreau  pursued  his  victory,  taking  possession  of 


MARENGO.  I9i 


Salzburg:  Augereau,  at  the  head  of  the  Gallo-Batavian  Army, 
penetrated  into  Bohemia,  and  Macdonald  passing  through  the 
Grison  country  into  the  Valteline,  formed  a  communication  with 
Massena.  The  peace  of  Luneville  was  the  reluctant  consequence, 
by  which  Tuscany  was  ceded  to  France,  and  the  whole  left  bank 
of  the  Rhine.  Each  of  these  conditions  was  peculiarly  galling 
to  the  Emperor,  because  Tuscany  belonged  to  his  brother ;  and 
as  to  the  provinces  on  the  Rhine,  he  objected  to  giving  away  what 
was  not  his  to  bestow.  Had  the  question  been  to  take  what  did 
not  belong  to  him,  there  would  have  been  less  difhcultv. 

Buonaparte  set  out  for  Paris  the  24th  of  June  through  Turin, 
crossing  .Mount  Cenis,  and  stopped  at  Lyons  for  some  time  to 
gratify  the  curiosity  of  the  inhabitants  and  to  lay  the  first  stone 
of  the  Place  Bellccour,  which  had  been  pulled  down  in  the  begin- 
ning of  the  Revolution.  He  arrived  at  Paris  on  the  2d  of  July, 
unexpectedly  and  in  the  middle  of  the  night ;  but  the  next  clay,  as 
soon  as  the  news  was  spread  abroad,  every  one  ran  to  testify  their 
eagerness  and  joy  ;  the  laboring  classes  left  their  occupations, 
and  the  whole  city  thronged  round  the  court  and  windows  of  the 
Thuilleries  to  sec  him  to  whom  France  owed  another  respite  from 
bondage  with  such  unlooked-for  triumphs.  At  night  every  house 
was  illuminated,  even  the  poorest  inhabitants  taking  part  in  the 
general  rejoicing.  It  was  a  day,  like  which  few  occur  in  history  ; 
yet  in  this  instance  how  many  such  were  crowded  into  the  life  of 
a  single  man  !  The  Pillar  of  Victory  still  stands  in  the  Place 
Vendome  ;  and  the  French,  reduced  to  their  natural  dimensions, 
sometimes  stop  to  wonder  at  it. 


102  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


CHAPTER    XXIX 


THE    INFERNAL    MACHINE. 


Foreign  war  and  intestine  commotions  having  failed,  recourse 
was  next  had  to  assassination,  to  get  rid  of  the  head  of  a  govern- 
ment which  promised  no  stability,  and  every  truce  or  peace  with 
which  was  held  to  be  a  kind  of  profanation — or  null  and  void, 
like  a  forced  compact  with  robbers.  Both  the  Royalists  and 
Jacobins  agreed  in  this  as  their  forlorn  hope  ;  the  last  seeing  in 
Buonaparte  an  immediate  obstacle  to  the  execution  of  their  plans, 
the  f»rmcr  seeing  in  him  (let  his  acts  and  pretensions  be  what 
they  would)  the  utter  extinction  of  the  principle  from  which,  ac- 
cording to  them,  all  power  ought  to  flow.  This  coincidence 
alone,  had  they  been  capable  of  attending  to  any  thing  but  their 
own  headstrong  will  which  they  mistake  for  reason,  should  have 
given  the  violent  Republicans  pause  ;  for  li  the  children  of  this 
world  are  wiser  in  their  generation  than  the  children  of  the  light," 
and  the  satellites  of  power  are  led  by  an  infallible  instinct  to 
what  promotes  their  cause,  are  steady  and  consistent,  and  alwavs 
take  the  surest  means  to  their  one  sole  end.  The  friends  of  lib- 
erty on  principle  (divided  as  they  are  among  themselves  and  dis- 
tracted by  various  theories)  have  only  to  look  as  a  practical  guide 
to  their  conduct  to  the  enemies  of  liberty  on  principle.  Thev 
cannot  be  far  out,  while  they  oppose  the  common  foe  face  to  face 
and  hand  to  hand.  As  long  as  Buonaparte  remained  a  stumbling- 
block  and  a  bug-bear  to  the  latter  and  they  bent  all  their  eilorts 
of  open  force  or  secret  machination  against  him,  he  should  have 
been  still  regarded  as  on  the  broadest  scale,  the  refuge  and  the 
rock  of  salvation  of  the  popular  side.  They  might  wish  to  get 
lid  of  him  as  a  matter  of  taste  or  reasoning:  in  point  of  fact, 
they  could  not  do  without  him.  He  himself  had  great  dread  of 
the  Jacobins,  as  was  but  natural,  and  which  showed  the  secret  af. 


THE  INFERNAL   MACHINE.  19-i 

finity  between  his  cause  and  theirs.  "  'Tis  conscience  that 
makes  cowards  of  us  all."  He  knew  from  experience  what 
tncir  feelings  and  principles  were;  and  as  the  attraction  was 
stronger,  the  repugnance  and  struggle  to  disentangle  himself  from 
them  was  proporiionably  violent,  as  men  hate  the  vices  to  which 
they  are  most  prone.  As  to  the  opposite  pretensions,  they  ap- 
pear to  him  like  mere  shadows  or  a  faded  pageant.  He  never 
(  n'ered  into  the  essence  of  royalty,  or  he  would  not  have  trusted 
himself  to  it.  He  might  assume  it  as  a  robe,  but  it  never  made 
a  |  art  of  the  man.  He  on  this  account  pronounced  royalism  to 
be  a  disease  of  the  skin,  but  Jacobinism  to  be  "  an  internal  dis- 
order,"  because  he  felt  it  within  himself.  lie  declared  that 
"  with  a  company  of  grenadiers  he  would  put  the  whole  Fauxbourg 
St.  Germain  to  flight,  but  that  the  Jacobins  were  an  incorrigible 
set  to  deal  with."  It  would  not  appear  so  by  the  event.  If 
the  first  are  easily  put  to  flight,  at  least  they  return  to  the  charge  ; 
and  they  do  so.  because  they  are  governed  not  by  reason  but  by 
custom,  and  are  the  creatures  not  of  circumstances  or  experience, 
but  of  implicit  faith  and  old  allegiance.  The  motto  of  legitimacy 
and  of  all  belonging  to  it  is  in  a  word  inveterate  prejudice  with- 
out reflection  and  power  borrowed  from  accident :  Buonaparte 
was  originally  and  unalterably  the  reverse  of  this,  the  very  coun- 
terpart and  antidote  to  it ;  intellect  without  prejudice  and  inhe- 
rent power  and  greatness.  He  did  not  even  seem  to  comprehend 
the  reverence  due  to  antiquated  absurdity  nor  the  omnipotence  of 
eternal  imbecility. 

The  first  attempt  made  was  by  some  discontented  Italian  patri- 
ots.— Arena,  brother  to  the  deputy  who  was  said  to  have  aimed  a 
dagger  at  Buonaparte  in  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred,  with 
whom  were  united  Ceracchi  and  Diana,  two  Italian  refugees,  To- 
pino  Lebrun,  a  painter,  and  two  or  three  more  enthusiasts  in  a 
low  condition  of  life.  Italians  have  long  been  in  the  habit  of  re- 
sorting to  the  dagger  for  a  worse  cause  than  that  of  removing  a 
tyrant  or  imitating  the  example  of  their  countryman  Brutus. 
One  of  these  men  had  been  a  great  admirer  of  Buonaparte,  anil 
had  made  a  statue  of  him  during  his  first  campaigns  in  Italy  ; 
but  lie  afterwards  grew  dissatisfied  with  his  conduct,  and  deter- 
mined to  take  his  life.      For  this  purpose,  he  solicited  permission 

vol.  n.  10  1? 


194  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

to  make  another  model  ;  but  his  heart  failed  him  when  the  timo- 
came.  The  conspirators  then  formed  a  plan  to  assassinate  the 
Chief  Consul  at  the  Opera-IIouse.  They  were  betrayed  by  an 
accomplice,  and  two  of  them,  Ceracchi  and  Diana,  were  ar- 
rested by  the  police  behind  the  scenes,  armed  and  prepared  to 
execute  their  design.  Buonaparte  spoke  slightly  of  the  attempt  : 
"  a  look,"  he  said,  "  from  his  brave  guard  would  have  discon- 
certed them."  The  circumstances  were  not  made  public,  nor 
were  the  conspirators  brought  to  trial  till  the  repetition  of  similar 
attempts  seemed  to  make  an  example  necessary.  Yet  on  such 
frail  threads  did  the  hopes  of  cabinets  at  this  time  depend  that 
Talleyrand  declared  in  the  Council  of  State  that  "  the  affair  of 
Ceracchi  and  his  associates  had  interrupted  all  diplomatic  commu- 
nications for  a  considerable  time,  particularly  with  the  Emperor 
of  Russia,  who  broke  oil*  a  treaty  in  consequence,  and  made  it  ne- 
cessary to  re-open  the  campaign  !" 

Soon  after,  a  man  of  the  name  of  Chevalier  with  anothci 
named  Yeyccr,  who  belonged  to  the  old  terrorist  faction,  con- 
trived a  plan  to  kill  the  First  Consul  by  means  of  an  Infernal 
Machine,  or  a  barrel  of  gunpowder  stuck  round  with  grape-shol 
and  pieces  of  old  iron,  and  placed  in  such  a  manner  as  by  the 
assistance  of  a  slow  match  to  explode  at  the  moment  when  the 
First  Consul  was  passing  through  the  street.  A  man  who  had 
been  employed  to  lay  caltrops,  so  that  the  carriage  could  not 
move  (Mi,  told  his  suspicions  to  the  police.  The  experiment  was 
tried  in  the  outskirts  of  Paris,  and  the  explosion  led  to  the  discov- 
ery and  arrest  of  the  parties,  so  that  the  scheme'  never  came  to 
anything,  though  it  was  hushed  up  for  reasons  of  policy.  The 
Royalists  became  acquainted  with  these  men  in  prison  and  with 
the  plot  they  had  hatched,  and  readily  conceiving  that  "the  sov- 
ereign's! thing  on  earth"'  was  such  a  remedy  for  a  desperate 
cause,  in  their  hands  it  had  very  nearly  produced  the  effect  in- 
tended by  it.  A  letter  from  the  Count  ile  Lille  to  Buonaparte, 
inviting  him  to  restore  the  Crown  <  f  France  to  him.  having  been 
answered  with  cold  politeness,  and  a  mission  of  the  beautiful 
Duchess  of  Guiche  to  Paris  to  insinuate  the  same  gracious  pro- 
ject having  ended  in  her  receiving  orders  to  quit  the  country,  it 
was  time  to  exchange  those  persuasive  arts  for  stronger  measures 


THE   INFERNAL   MACHINE.  195 

On  the  evening  of  the  10th  of  October  1800,  Buonaparte  had 
agreed  to  go  to  the  Opera ;  but  afterwards  being  unwell  or 
fatigued  by  business,  changed  his  mind  and  wished  to  stay  at 
home.  Josephine  and  one  or  two  friends  who  were  with  him  per- 
sisted in  urging  him  to  go,  and  came  to  a  couch  where  he  had 
fallen  asleep  and  waked  him  at  the  time.  One  brought  him  his 
hat,  another  his  sword.  He  was  in  a  manner  forced  into  his  car- 
riage, where  he  again  fell  fast  asleep  and  was  dreaming  of  pass- 
ing the  Tagliamento,  when  all  of  a  sudden  he  awoke  amidst  noise 
and  (lame.  He  had  passed  this  river  in  great  peril  by  torch-light 
thn  e  or  four  years  before,  when  his  carriage  was  set  afloat  by 
the  stream  ;  and  the  flashes  of  fire  and  sudden  lifting  up  of  the 
carriage  by  the  explosion  on  the  present  occasion,  no  doubt,  pro- 
duced the  coincidence  in  his  dream.  The  circumstances  were 
these.  A  cart  bearing  the  barrel  of  gunpowder  with  the  other 
implements  of  destruction  as  described  above,  had  been  placed  by 
two  of  the  conspirators,  Carbon  and  St.  Regent  (who  had  been 
Cliouan  chiefs)  at  the  corner  of  the  Hue  St.  Xicaise,  where  the 
First  Consul  had  to  pass,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  intercept  the 
progress  of  the  carriage  which  had  hardly  room  to  get  by.  St. 
Regent  had  set  fire  to  the  match  at  the  appointed  instant;  but  the 
coachman,  who  was  intoxicated,  driving  unusually  fast,  the  car- 
riage had  passed  the  machine  a  second  or  two  before  it  went  off, 
which  defeated  the  project.  The  explosion  was  terrible.  It 
readied  the  horse  of  the  last  man  of  Buonaparte's  guard,  shat- 
tered the  windows  of  the  carriage,  killed  eight  persons,  wounded 
twenty-eight  (among  the  rest  the  incendiary  St.  Regent),  and 
damaged  a  great  number  of  houses.  The  report  was  heard  for 
several  miles  round  Paris.  Buonaparte  immediately  exclaimed  to 
Lannes  and  Bessieres  who  were  with  him  in  the  coach,  '•  We 
are  blown  up  !';  They  would  have  stopped  the  carriage,  but  he 
ordered  it  to  drive  on,  and  arrived  in  safety  at  the  Opera,  where 
the  noise  had  been  heard,  and  where  his  entrance,  together  with 
the  disordered  looks  of  his  attendants  caused  great  agitation  :  but 
the  calm  appearance  of  the  First  Consul  re-assured  the  audience, 
and  the  performance,  winch  was  Haydn's  Creation,  went  on. 
Buonaparte's  coachman.  Ca?sar,  remained  the  whole  time  insen- 
sible of  what  had  happened,  and  had  taken  the  explosion   for  the 


196  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

firing  of  a  salute  ;  but  a  dinner  having  been  given  him  by  nig 
brother-coachmen  in  honor  of  his  escape,  a  hackney  coachman 
who  was  present  said  he  knew  who  had  played  him  the  trick, 
having  seen  the  cart  issue  from  a  stable-yard  near  which  lie  took 
up  his  stand  :  and  this  clue  led  to  the  discovery  of  the  real  authors 
of  the  conspiracy. 

In  the  mean  time,  Buonaparte  was  furious  against  the  Jacobins 
and  against  the  Minister  of  Police,  whom  he  accused  of  conniv- 
ing at  their  plots  and  machinations.  At  several  Councils  of  State 
which  were  held  upon  the  subject,  he  declaimed  against  the  meta- 
physicians, went  back  to  the  Septembriscrs,  the  affair  of  Babceuf, 
the  31st  of  May,  constantly  exonerated  the  priests  and  the  Roy- 
alists, and  charged  the  whole  upon  a  handful  of  miscreants,  who 
were  invariably  at  war  with  all  established  governments  and  with 
the  peace  of  society.  Fouche  by  his  sullenness  and  reserve  did 
not  remove  these  suspicions,  though  he  persisted  in  ascribing  the 
attempt  to  the  Chouans  and  their  party.  The  First  Consul  wished 
for  an  act  of  summary  justice  against  the  remains  of  the  Jaco- 
bins, which  after  several  impatient  discussions  and  considerable 
reluctance  on  the  part  of  the  Council  of  State  and  the  Legislative 
Body  he  obtained  •  and  130  of  the  principal  agitators  (men  ob- 
noxious from  their  share  in  the  Reign  of  Terror,  such  as  Chou- 
dieu,  Taillefer,  Thirion,  Talot,  Felix  Lepelletier,  Rossignol,  and 
others)  underwent  a  sentence  of  transportation,  which  was  car- 
ried into  instant  elTect,  though  some  of  them  were  allowed  to 
return  at  a  subsequent  period.  An  attempt  was  made  by  Ber- 
ber* to  save  two  of  them,  Talot  and  Destrem,  from  being  pun- 
ished for  a  crime  of  which  it  was  very  soon  known  thev  had  not 
ih  en  guilty;  but  this  met  with  a  cold  reception  from  the  First 
Consul,  who  said  they  had  been  condemned  as  enemies  of  the 
State,  and  referred  in  proof  to  the  act  of  the  Legislative  Body,  in 
which  not  a  word  was  said  of  the  lt)th  of  October.  This  was 
vindicating  injustice  by  chicanery. 

\  month   after  the  affair   had    happened,  the  Minister  of  Police 

*  At  the  time  that  Buonaparte  was  accused  of  favoring  the  Royalists  too 
much,  lie  addressed  Madame  Monge.  an  1  said,  '•  You  will  he  sat isfiel  with 
me  to-day,  f  have  appointed  three  Jacobin*  to  the  Council  of  State."' — 
"  Who  are  they.  First  Consul  .'"' — ::  1'o'al.  "rune,  and  Burlier,"'  was  the  reply. 


THE   INFERNAL   MACHINE.  197 

made  his  report  on  the  attempt  of  the  Infernal  Machine.  He  harl 
the  contrivers  in  Ills  custody  ;  and  they  turned  out  (as  he  had  all 
along  predicted)  to  he  agents  of  the  Royalist  party.  He  entered 
into  a  detailed  account  of  the  plot  to  assassinate  the  First  Consul 
as  brought  over  from  England  by  Georges  Cadoudal  in  the 
November  preceding,  of  the  landing  of  his  accomplices  Carbon, 
Joyan,  Lincelan,  St.  Regent,  &c,  of  their  intrigues,  and  the  im 
penetrable  mystery  which  involved  them.  At  length,  the  horse 
which  had  been  fastened  to  the  Infernal  Machine  afforded  some 
traces;  and  led  to  the  seizure  of  Carbon,  who  being  found 
secreted  in  the  house  of  two  nuns,  Madame  Goyon  and  Madame 
de  Cice,  made  a  discovery  of  the  whole  affair.  These  gentle- 
women, in  secreting  a  public  assassin,  were  doubtless  influenced 
by  mistaken  motives  of  piety  and  loyalty.  St.  Regent  and  Car- 
bon were  condemned,  and  suffered  on  I  he  scaffold,  though  they 
were  tried  before  the  ordinary  tribunals  and  in  common  course 
of  law  ;  which  made  the  arbitrary  decree  which  had  been  passed 
against  a  number  of  innocent  individuals  appear  in  a  more  unfa- 
vorable light.  Nothing  can  excuse  Buonaparte  on  this  occasion 
but  the  imminent  peril  he  was  in,  and  the  previous  attempts 
against  his  life  by  fanatics  of  the  same  party,  which  had  worked 
up  his  old  grudge  against  them  to  a  pitch  of  violent  irritation  ; 
and  which  having  once  fixed  his  purpose,  he  would  not  relin- 
quish it  when  the  immediate  grounds  were  removed.  It  is  hard 
for  a  man  to  be  shot  at  like  carrion  because  he  is  not  a  piece  of 
well-preserved  mummy  by  one  party  or  a  man  of  straw  bv  the 
other  ;  and  in  the  distraction  of  the  moment,  he  will  wreak  his 
vengeance  on  the  first  object  that  presents  itself.  I  cannot  help 
entertaining  some  doubt,  that  there  was  from  the  beginning  an 
understanding  between  Fouche  and  Buonaparte,  and  that  tin* 
detection  of  the  true  conspirators  was  postponed  till  the  blow  had 
been  struck  against  the  pretended  ones,  who  were  equally  for- 
midable to  him,  whether  he  looked  to  past  events  or  future  con- 
tingencies. If  they  could  not  brook  the  First  Consul,  how  should 
tin-  Emperor  escape  ?  The  silence  and  inaction  of  so  complete 
a  double-dealer  as  Fouche  are  suspicious.  The  other  conspira- 
tors, Chevalier  and  Veycer,  and  Arena,  Coracchi,  and  tliei'' 
coadjutors  were  soon  after  tried  and  executed.      The  Republican 


IDS  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 

faction  made  no  more  attempts  of  the  kind.  It  was  not  till  after 
repeated  experience  that  Buonaparte  became  convinced,  that 
those  who  act  on  their  own  impulses  and  from  a  love  of  liberty 
and  independence  are  less  dangerous  than  those  combinations, 
where  in  the  casting  of  the  parts  the  principals  are  safe  and  re- 
mote, and  where  the  subordinate  agents  are  merely  blind  and 
servile  instruments  in  the  hands  of  their  superiors.  The  bands 
of  Chauffeurs  or  Chouans  who  infested  the  public  roads,  and  kept 
up  a  daring  and  clandestine  communication  between  intriguers 
in  the  capital  and  foreign  powers  were  the  occasion  of  the  ap- 
pointment of  a  special  tribunal  to  try  such  offences.  No  coach 
could  venture  to  leave  Paris  without  a  guard  of  four  soldiers. 
This  has  been  considered  as  a  stretch  of  ungovernable  ambition 
and  a  stride  to  absolute  power.  It  was  surely  a  measure  also  of 
private  self-defence  and  public  safety.  The  Orangemen  are 
supposed  to  justify  the  promulgation  of  military  law  in  Ireland  ; 
as  a  few  spouting-clubs  produced  the  suspension  of  the  Habeas 
Corpus  in  England. — When  Mr.  Fox  was  over  in  Paris  in  1802, 
he  used  to  have  frequent  and  warm  disputes  with  the  First  Con- 
sul on  the  subject  of  the  Infernal  Machine,  the  latter  laying  the 
blame  of  it  on  the  English  Government,  and  the  former  vehe- 
mently repelling  the  charge  on  the  ground  that  no  Englishman 
would  lend  his  countenance  to  assassination.  This  argument 
showed  his  own  patriotism  and  honesty  ;  but  the  feelings  of  a 
nation  change  with  its  maxims,  and  these  are  impaired  by  the 
cause  in  which  you  embark  and  the  associates  whom  you  select. 
Mr.  Wyndham  in  his  love  of  paradox  and  extreme  abhorrence  of 
the  principles  of  Jacobinism  might  see  the  matter  in  a  very  differ- 
ent li<rht.  It  might  br>  thought  a  courtesy  to  foreign  manners  as 
well  as  a  compliment  to  foreign  princes — who  were  franticly 
calling  out,  <;  (Jive  us  a  tomb  or  a  throne  !'; — adroitly  to  remove 
the  o-reat  impediment  to  the  latter;  and  members  of  the  British 
Cabinet  might  be  found  then  as  well  as  twenty  years  after  to 
ask, — "  What  is  the  death  of  General  Buonaparte  to  us," 
whether  owing  to  a  sudden  explosion  or  a  lingering  climate  ?* 

*  For  a  further  elucidation  of  a  certain  under-tone  in  English  casuistry 
on  this  subject  at  the  period  referred  to.  see  an  elaborate  article  on  tyranni- 


THE   INFERNAL   MACHINE.  99 

cide  in  a  paper  called  "The  Friend,"  by  S.  T.  Coleridge.  "The  ghost  is 
an  honest  ghost,"  and  speaks,  I'll  be  bound,  no  more  than  was  set  down  for 
him.  This  shows  how  much  the  national  spirit  must  have  been  altered, 
and  how  strong  the  tide  must  have  set  in  to  the  support  of  legitimacy  by 
the  most  unwarrantable  means,  when  the  finest  intellects  could  not  escape 
the  general  contagion,  and  could  only  avoid  general  obloquy  by  withdraw* 
imr  into  privacy  or  lending  themselves  to  the  basest  prostitution. 


200  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON'. 


CHAPTER    XXX 


PEACE    OF    AMIENS. 


Buonaparte  had  erected  Tuscany  into  a  kingdom,  and  given 
it  to  the  Duke  of  Parma,  an  Infant  of  the  House  of  Spain,  under 
the  title  of  the  King  of  Etruria.  lie  and  his  wife*  paid  a  visit 
to  Paris  in  May  1-^Ul.  It  was  on  this  occasion  that  the  audience 
at  the  theatre  enthusiastically  applied  to  Buonaparte  the  verse — 

'•  J'ai  fait  des  rois.  Madame,  et  n'ai  pas  voulu  l'etre." 

The  Count  of  Leghorn  (fur  it  was  under  this  title  that  he  travel- 
led) turned  out  a  very  poor  creature  according  to  common  report, 
and  it  was  on  this  account  that  Buonaparte  had  him  shown  osten- 
tatiously about,  "to  let  people  see  how  a  king  was  made.  It  was 
enough  to  disgust  them  with  royalty."  There  was  more  policy 
than  honesty  in  this  proceeding.  It  might  seem  by  this  as  if  he 
had  not  at  the  time  a  design  of  becoming  one  himself,  though  still 
it  was  tampering,  as  it  were,  with  the  subject  ;  and  it  was  obvi- 
ous to  infer  that  the  diadem  which  he  gave  to  another,  he  might 
bind  on  his  own  brow.  He  must  certainly  feel  that  he  was  made 
of  vcrv  diilbront  stud'  from  ordinary  kings.  When  I  think  of 
that  fine  head  (so  unlike  a  crowned  head.)  of  those  Republican 
bands  led  bv  freedom  to  victory,  and  that  severe  and   almost   an- 

*  Maria-Louisa,  si-tor  nf  Ferdinand  VII.  of  Spain,  since  Duchess  of 
Lucca.  The  late  Duchess  of  Lucca  was  universally  hated  f  >r  her  avarice. 
insolence,  and  duplii-ity.  T  live  an  instance  of  the  manner  in  which  these 
pi  [ile  in  .  ."  ii-''  nf  religi  n  in  1  autle  rity  as  a  screen  fur  the  most  nion- 
sti'nus  i>r  the  most  petty  vices,  -le'  had  ordered  a  costly  oh  mdelier  to  orn.a- 
r  priv  :te  cha]  el  ;  li  it  the  tra  !  sman  w]  '.  .  i  m  ide  it.  knowing  :  er 
utter  dUre^ard  of  pecuniary  obligations,  was  unwilling  to  part  with  it  till 
be  had  been  paid  the  money.  On  this,  she  prevailed  upon  him  to  hang  it 
up  under  the  pretence  of  seeing  the  eilect.  ■•  There!"  says  she,  " now  it  ia 
consecrated  property  ;   take  it  down  at  your  peri!  !'; 


PEACE   OF   AMIENS.  201 

tique  simplicity  of  aspect  which  France  presented  as  a  contrast  to 
the  Gothic  frippery  of  her  old  government  and  the  rest  of  Europe,  I 
am  still  willing  to  believe  that  the  changes  which  were  afterwards 
carried  into  effect  were  alien  to  his  own  breast,  were  a  concession 
to  those  who  prefer  the  tinsel  to  the  gold,  and  were  forced  from 
him  (in  sullen  scorn  and  defiance)  by  the  persevering  determina- 
tion to  annul  and  disallow  all  claims  (how  sterling  or  lofty  soever) 
but  those  which  are  founded  on  external  sound  and  show.  Wo 
shall  see  that  he  himself  speaks  with  great  confidence  and  com- 
placency of  the  favorable  impressions  made  on  foreign  Courts  by 
his  surrounding  himself  with  the  usual  paraphernalia  and  sym- 
bols of  power. 

The  Allies  certainly  reckoned  on  the  loose  and  fluctuating 
mass  of  power  in  France,  as  the  great  means  of  disuniting  and 
subduing  it,  either  by  want  of  concert  in  the  armies  or  by  the 
collision  of  the  different  factions.  The  danger  on  this  side,  at 
least,  Buonaparte  averted  by  taking  the  reins  into  his  own  hands, 
and  giving  unity  and  stability  to  the  State  ;  and  come  what  would, 
France  thus  secured  the  great  principle  of  the  Revolution,  the 
right  of  changing  her  existing  government  for  one  more  congenial 
to  it ;  like  England,  which  had  altered  the  succession,  but  retained 
the  forms  of  her  established  Constitution.  The  Continental 
Powers  saw  the  advantages  which  the  new  Government  derived 
from  the  change  ;  and  though  they  did  not  hate  it  less,  feared  it 
more : — 

::Like  to  a  sort  of  steers. 

'Mongst  whom  some  beast  of  strange  and  foreign  guise 
Unwares  has  chanced,  far  straying  from  his  peers;    • 
So  did  their  ghastly  gaze  betray  their  hidden  fears.'' 

The  Emperor  Paid  alone,  the  most  rash  and  splenetic  amongst 
them,  seemed  to  swa'iow  the  bait  entire  ;  and  disappointed  at  tire 
ill-successes  of  his  troops  under  Suwarrow,  and  disgusted  with 
the  exclusive  maritime  claims  set  up  by  the  English  and  their 
selfish  conduct,  made  common  cause  with  Buonaparte,  and  gave 
himself  up  to  his  admiration  of  the  man  as  a  kind  of  infatuation, 
disre^ardinir  the  political  principle  for  the  sake  of  the  dramatic 
effect.      This  soon  led  to  his  own  tragic  end.      His  new  associate 

10*  " 


202  LIFE   OF    NAPOLEON. 


did  not  neglect  the  opportunity  to  ingratiate  himself  with  Paul. 
The  English  had  refused  his  request  to  give  up  Malta  to  the 
Knights  of  St.  John  of  Jerusalem  ;  Buonaparte  sent  him  the 
sword  which  Pope  Leo  X.  had  given  to  the  Grand  Master,  L;Ile 
Adam,  for  his  defence  of  Rhodes  against  the  Turks.  The  Eng- 
lish ministry  refused  to  include  8000  or  10,000  Russian  soldiers 
taken  either  in  Italy  or  in  Holland  under  the  Duke  of  York's 
command,  in  an  exchange  of  prisoners ;  Buonaparte  had  them 
collected  together,  clothed  and  equipped,  and  sent  back  to  Russia. 
Napoleon  also  sent  a  French  actress  to  St.  Petersburg}}. 

The  Queen  of  Naples,  alarmed  at  the  part  her  court  had  lately 
taken  against  the  French,  and  at  the  defeat  of  General  Damas 
soon  after  the  battle  of  Marengo,  made  a  journey  express  to  Peters- 
burgh  to  solicit  the  intercession  of  the  Emperor  Paul  ;  and  at  his 
request  Buonaparte  spared  Naples.  The  Czar  was  overpowered 
with  so  many  marks  of  courtesy  and  generosity.  He  was  ready 
to  run  his  errands,  to  do  bis  bidding,  to  "  put  a  girdle  round  about 
the  earth"  or  close  Up  the  passage  of  the  seas  for  him.  He  lent 
a  favorable  ear  to  a  project  tor  marching  a  joint  army  of  French 
and  Russian  troops  through  Persia  to  the  Indus,  and  entered 
heart  and  hand  into  the  armed  neutrality  of  the  North.  He  ad- 
dressed a  letter  to  Buonaparte  couched  in  these  terms:  "Citizen 
Firsl  Consul — I  do  not  write  to  you  to  discuss  the  rights  of  men 
or  citizens  :  every  country  governs  itself  as  it  pleases.  Wherever 
J  sec  at  the  head  of  a  nation  a  man  who  knows  how  to  rule  and 
how  to  li^ht.  my  heart  is  attracted  towards  him.  I  write  to  ac- 
quaint you  with  niv  dissatisfacti  in  with  England,  who  violates 
everv  artiel  law  of  nati  >ns,  and  lias  no  guide  but  her  ego- 

ti-m  and  interest.      I  wish  t  i  unite  woo   y   o  t  >  put  an  etui   to  the 
ngs  of  that  g  wernm-mt.         'Pins  alludi  s  to  1 

in'  tits   a*    this  time    mad.'    by  the    English   in    the  right   of 

-   ntvh   at   sea.  verv  neces>ary  perhaps   as  a    measure  of  securitv 

t  i  give  laT  the  uneoiitrulb  d  c  iimnand  of  the  sea.  hut  contrarv  to 

red  es'ablish  d  eu-eom  and    to  all  previ  ais  treaties.      The  Ameri- 

.   .  is'e  i  u  It  1 1  the  vi  ileiiee      f  the  [)i  n  :■•  irv.  and    pr  iv  >\i   d 

•      : ■  •-      f  T  '    jieeulati  /U.  bad  fir    s  ime  time 

■•  iiii    th"    I'higlisli    n  iiie  to   war  with    Frn nee  ; 

i  -  '  iken  b\'  the  Firs!  ' '  insul  res:  >re  I  the  friendlv  inter- 


PEACE   OF   AMIENS.  203 


course  between  the  two  nations.  Denmark,  Norway,  and  Swe- 
den, who  were  at  peace  with  England,  enraged  at  seeing  their 
fleets  and  vessels  stopped  on  the  high  seas  as  interlopers  by  Eng- 
lish cruisers,  and  dragged  into  English  ports  as  felons,  joined  with 
Russia  to  resist  such  arbitrary  and  unadmitted  claims.  The  Em- 
peror published  an  edict  to  seize  on  all  British  goods  and  subjects 
in  his  dominions ;  the  three  great  northern  fleets  were  to  assem- 
ble in  the  Baltic  and  to  be  prepared  to  act  offensively  in  the  spring 
of  1801.  The  Danes  took  possession  of  Hamburgh,  thus  cutting 
off  the  navigation  of  the  Elbe;  and  Prussia,  like  a  gaunt  hound, 
did  not  scruple  to  seize  on  Hanover  (the  independence  of  which 
it  was  especially  bound  to  guarantee)  as  a  mark  of  the  good  faith 
and  disinterestedness  of  regular  governments  towards  eacli  other. 
This  maritime  coalition  was  broken  up  by  two  events,  by  the  gal- 
lant and  desperate  attack  of  Nelson  on  the  Danish  fleet  in  the 
Sound  (in  which  he  ran  all  the  risks  of  bravery  and  genius, 
though  with  less  than  his  wonted  success)  ;  and  by  the  death  of 
the  Emperor  Paul,  who  was  assassinated  in  the  night  of  the  23d 
of  March,  1801,  by  those  of  his  own  household.  His  son  suc- 
ceeded him.  The  death  of  a  sovereign  seemed  to  cost  little,  so 
that  the  sovereigntv  survived  ;  the  historic  Muse  did  not  put  on 
mourning  for  the  occasion,  nor  did  Europe  talk  of  waging  eternal 
war  against  those  who  had  thus  staggered  the  person  of  an  anoint- 
ed king.  The  ashes  of  a  monarch  are  no  more  than  common 
dust,  unless  when  the  tree  of  liberty  rises  out  of  them  ;  as  regi- 
cide, sacrilege,  treason,  arc  words  of  slight  import,  provided  they 
arc  not  coupled  with  the  rights  and  happiness  of  millions.  It  is 
then  that  both  princes  and  people  stand  aghast,  and  (strange  as  it 
may  seem)  league  together  for  mutual  safety  and  support  !  On 
the  arrival  of  the  news  in  London,  instead  of  the  Russian  Ambas- 
sador  receiving  his  passports,  Lord  St.  Helen's  proceeded  forth- 
with to  Petersburgh.  Buonaparte,  who  might  think  they  would 
us"  little  ceremony  with  him,  if  they  turned  round  in  this  manner 
on  one  of  their  own  clique,  was  the  only  person  who  seemed 
shocked  at  it  ;  and  his  ministers  had  some  difficulty  in  recalling 
to  his  mind  that  it  was  no  more  than  the  common  mode  of  dispos- 
ing of  arbitrary  sovereigns  in  despotic  countries.  Paul's  succes- 
sor, not  willing  to  afford  a  similar  triumph  to  the  zealots  of  reli- 


204  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

gion  and  social  order,  hearkened  to  the  counsels  of  his  father's 
murderers.  'I lie  Northern  Powers  acquiesced  (perforce)  in  the 
maritime  claims  advanced  by  England  ;  Denmark  gave  up  Ham- 
burgh, Prussia  let  go  its  grasp  on  Hanover,  and  things  remained 
much  on  the  same  footing  as  before  on  that  side  of  the  Continent. 
Soon  after,  in  June,  1801,  Buonaparte,  in  concert  with  Spain, 
marched  an  army  into  Portugal,  took  Olivenza  and  Almeida,  and 
forced  the  Prince-Regent  of  Portugal  (who  was  son-in-law  to  the 
King  of  Spain,  and  the  close  and  strenuous  ally  of  England)  to 
conclude  a  separate  peace  and  shut  its  ports  against  the  English. 
In  the  mean  time,  Malta  had  surrendered  to  the  English  fleet ; 
and  the  French  forces  in  Egypt,  attacked  and  beaten  by  the  Brit- 
ish army  under  Sir  Ralph  Abercrombie,  who  was  killed  in  mak- 
ing good  his  landing  in  March,  1801,  were  compelled  to  capitu- 
late and  return  to  France  in  June  the  same  year.  Thus  the 
English  remained  masters  at  sea,  the  French  by  land  ;  each  na- 
tion had  pushed  its  advantages  to  the  utmost  :  and  this  state  of 
equilibrium  and  uncertainty  what  farther  to  attempt,  if  not  an  ar- 
gument for  peace  (considering  the  objects  at  stake  and  the  irrita- 
tion of  political  feeling),  was  at  least  a  favorable  opportunity  for 
taking  breath  and  collecting  all  their  strength  for  the  meditated 
blow,  before  this  unnatural  struggle  was  renewed  to  the  complete 
triumph  or  absolute  destruction  of  one  or  the  other  party.  France 
fought  for  its  own  existence  or  for  the  continuance  of  the  new 
order  of  things,  and  in  this  object  it  had  triumphed  ;  England 
fought  confessedly  (or  with  a  purpose,  if  only  darkly  avowed,  not 
the  less  fixed  and  rooted)  for  the  re-establishment  of  the  ancient 
order  of  things  or  of  what  was  called  social  order,  which  could 
not  be  effected  without  the  total  subjection  of  France.  In  this 
object  it  had  failed  ;  and  therefore  it  was  easy  to  foresee  (accord- 
in"  to  the  common  course  of  events  and  operations  of  men's  pas- 
sions) on  which  side  the  temptation  with  the  watchful  desire  to 
renew  the  contest  would  li< — on  theirs  who  had  secured  the  ob- 
ject for  which  they  took  up  arms,  or  on  theirs  who  had  been 
baffled  in  their  attempts  to  dictate  a  government  to  another  coun- 
try on  the  plea  of  just  and  necessary  defence,  which  plea  could 
never  be  waiving  while  a  hope  remained  or  an  opportunity  offered 
for  overturning  the   independence  and  government  of  the  rival 


PEACE   OF   AMIENS.  205 

Stale.  There  was  time  enough  for  bringing  this  great  and  mighty 
question  to  an  issue  ;  and  there  was  no  danger  that  the  motives 
for  recurring  to  it  would  cease  with  intermission  or  reflection. 
The  sense  of  disappointed  revenge  does  not  rankle  less  in  the 
breast  of  monarchs  for  being  long  brooded  over  ;  and  peace  or  war 
is  always  in  their  own  hands.  It  is  easy  to  make  or  find  the  pre- 
texts. Besides,  new  ones  were  wanted,  the  old  ones  not  only 
having  failed  of  success,  but  being  the  least  palatable  possible. 
The  Peace  of  Amiens,  therefore,  was  acceded  to  after  some  re- 
luctance and  "  face-making,"  not  to  prevent  future  animosities 
and  effect  a  true  reconciliation,  but  it  was  a  sponge  to  wipe  out 
old  scores  and  begin  the  game  over  again  on  a  new  ground. — 
Some  threats  were  indeed  thrown  out,  and  some  preparations 
were  made  after  the  evacuation  of  Egypt  for  an  invasion  of  Eng- 
land ;  but  these  were  neither  serious  nor  formidable,  and  ended 
in  nothing  but  Lord  Nelson's  scouring  the  Channel  so  that  not  an 
enemy's  fishing-boat  could  appear  in  it  and  blockading  the  French 
flotilla  in  the  harbor  of  Boulogne.  The  preliminaries  of  peace 
were  signed  10th  October,  1801,  to  the  general  joy  of  the  people 
of  Great  Britain  ;  but  so  much  did  the  swallowing  of  this  bittei 
pill  go  against  the  stomach  of  the  higher  authorities,  that  it  took 
five  months,  till  the  March  of  the  following  year,  to  adjust  the 
particulars  of  the  treaty.  .Mr.  Pitt  went  out  of  office  on  the  occa- 
sion, and  Mr.  Addington  succeeded  to  keep  his  place  warm  for 
him  on  his  return  to  it.  The  colonies  which  the  English  had 
taken  during  the  war  (which  was  all  they  had  got  by  it)  were  for 
the  most  part  restored  ;  Malta  was  to  be  given  up  under  a  gene- 
ral guarantee  to  the  Knights  of  St.  John  :  and  it  was  the  refusal 
to  comply  with  this  stipulation  that  was  the  immediate  cause  of 
tho  renewal  of  the  war  a  twelvemonth  after. — To  resume  the  ac- 
count of  one  or  two  other  points. 

Buonaparte,  soon  after  his  accession  to  the  management  of  af- 
fairs, proposed  to  strike  from  the  list  of  emigrants  all  but  those 
who  had  held  an  important  rank  or  taken  a  distinguished  part  in 
foreign  armies  or  in  the  bands  of  insurgent  royalists;  or  those 
among  the  clergy  who  refused  to  take  tho  oaths  of  allegiance  to 
tho  government.  In  consequence,  they  presented  themselves  in 
crowds  and  of  all  classes,  and  nearly  all  the  members  of  the  First 

13 


206  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

Constituent  Assembly,  who  had  fled,  returned  to  France.  Du- 
ring the  absence  of  the  First  Consul  in  Italy,  at  the  time  of  the 
battle  of  Marengo,  Cambaceres  had  gone  beyond  his  instructions 
in  enlarging  the  list  of  exceptions :  on  his  return  Napoleon  found 
among  the  number  of  those  who  were  allowed  to  come  back, 
several  great  names  that  had  borne  arms  against  France.  lie 
testified  considerable  dissatisfaction  and  chagrin  at  this.  Pie  con- 
sulted with  Berlier  whether  these  erasures  could  not  be  recalled, 
as  having  been  procured  by  false  certificates  of  civism.  "  There 
are  five  or  six  thousand  emigrants,"  he  said,  "  whom  it  is  at  all 
events  necessary  to  prevent  from  returning  to  the  country  to 
trouble  its  repose,  unless  they  pass  over  our  dead  bodies.  Bui 
out  of  a  hundred  thousand  persons  wandering  in  exile,  the  most 
dangerous  and  hostile  have  contrived  to  return  because  they 
could  afford  to  bribe  the  police;  a  duke  could  get  himself  struck 
off  the  list,  while  a  poor  man  remained  on  it.:'  On  an  objection 
being  made  to  the  unpopularity  of  some  part  of  the  laws  respect- 
ing emigration,  the  First  Consul  replied,  "  What  signifies  the 
opinion  of  the  saloons  and  busy-bodies  ?  There  is  only  one 
opinion  that  I  care  for,  that  of  the  common  peasants."  Not  long 
after,  to  show  the  temper  and  views  of  the  class  of  persons  thus 
readmitted  (as  it  were  on  their  parole)  to  the  bosom  of  their  coun- 
try, Buonaparte  was  at  the  theatre  to  witness  a  play,  called  "  Ed- 
ward in  Scotland,"  in  which  the  emigrants  and  royalists  made 
constant  applications  of  different  passages  to  the  Bourbons,  and 
found  a  parallel  between  the  Consular  Government  and  the  suc- 
cessiot)  of  the  House  of  Hanover;  and  it  was  observed  that  the 
most  violent  and  continued  interruption  proceeded  from  a  box  di- 
rectly opposite  the  Firs)  Consul's,  belonging  to  the  Duke  i  : 
sen',  one  of  the  emigrants  who  had  been  shipwrecked  at  Calais 
some  years  before,  and  whom  Buonaparte  had  released  from  prison. 
The  piece  was  suppressed,  and  the  emigrants  and  royalists  ex- 
claimed bitterly  against  the  tyranny  of  the  First  Consul.*  Such 
the  difficulties  and   straits   to  which    he  was  reduced   bv  the 

-•  I  >u]».-itcl.  the  author  of  a  piece  c  die  1  ■■  The  Three  Valets."  and  which 
W;:-  erroneously  suppose!  to  reflect  on  the  three  consuls,  had  every  amends 
made  him  by  Napoleon  for  the  first  ebullition  0/  his  resentment,  as  soon  as 
ihe  mistake  was  discovered. 


PEACE   OF   AMIENS.  207 


attempt  to  reconcile  different  prejudices  and  parties,  the  safety  of 
the  State  with  humanity  towards  individuals,  the  foundations  of 
liberty  with  the  exercise  of  power.  It  would  have  been  easy  for 
Buonaparte  to  have  lent  himself  to  either  extreme  of  old  preju- 
dices or  new  principles,  but  to  combine  and  hold  the  balance  be- 
tween them  was  not  so  easy.  He  might  have  brought  back  the 
Bourbons  or  the  Revolutionary  Tribunals  ;  or  he  might  have  per- 
mitted the  uncontrolled  liberty  of  the  press  and  been  covered  with 
the  imputation  of  crimes  like  a  leprosy;  or  have  suppressed  the 
police  and  laid  his  breast  bare  to  the  assassin's  knife;  or  suffered 
the  Allies  to  overrun  France  without  striking  a  blow  ;  or  have 
retired  into  private  life  with  the  bonlwmmic  and  self-denial  of  a 
simple  citizen  ;  and  he  would  have  pleased  many  people.  But 
how  to  enforce  authority  in  the  midst  of  party  rage  without  being 
accused  of  tyranny;  how  to  repel  the  aggressions  of  all  Europe 
without  being  railed  at  as  a  conqueror;  how  to  secure  the  peace 
and  tranquillity  without  infringing  on  the  freedom  of  the  country, 
how  to  conciliate  religious  scruples  without  bringing  back  the 
spirit  of  intolerance  and  superstition  ;  how  to  avail  himself  of 
powerful  interests  and  great  bodies  in  the  State  without  attacking 
liberal  institutions  and  the  rights  of  all  ;  these  were  problems  which 
it  was  beyond  the  power  of  the  strictest  logic  or  the  giddiest  ro- 
mance to  answer.  Had  he  tried  to  hold  the  balance  less  even 
between  the  conflicting  interests,  or  had  he  inclined,  whenever 
there  was  a  doubt,  to  the  right  instead  of  the  expedient,  I  do  not 
say  he  would  have  succeeded  better,  but  I  think  he  would  have 
deserved  to  succeed  better.  Being  himself  new,  he  should  have 
taken  his  stand  on  what  was  new;  and  all  public  acts  and  insti- 
tutions having  a  prospective  operation,  instead  of  cleaving  to  an- 
tiquity, should  make  an  advance  to  futurity,  for  that  is  the  direc- 
tion in  which  the  world  moves,  not  backwards  but  forwards.  O- 
what  was  temporary,  and  arising  out  of  actual  emergencies,  migh' 
have  been  arbitrary  ;  what  was  permanent,  ought  to  have  been 
just  and  liberal.  It  is  not  true,  however,  that  he  owed  his  ruin 
to  his  running  counter  to  the  liberal  maxims  and  spirit  of  the  age.; 
these  indeed  failed  him  when  he  needed  their  support,  and  they 
his  ; — had  he  appealed  to  them  sooner,  they  would  perhaps  have 
sooner  betrayed  or  compromised  him  by  their  imbecility  or  vio- 


208  LIFE   OF   XAPOLEON. 


lence.  The  only  obstacle  he  found  fatal  or  insurmountable  wa« 
the  besotted  bigotry  of  Spain,  or  the  barbarous  attachment  of  the 
Russians  to  the  soil  on  which  they  are  serfs.  It  will  hardly  be 
insisted  that  the  opposition  of  England  would  have  been  disarmed 
by  Ins  making  nearer  approaches  to  the  standard  of  modern  phi- 
losophy. He  himself  said,  that  "  it  had  been  wished  for  him  to 
have  been  a  Washington  ;  but  that  had  Washigton  been  in  hi 
place,  surrounded  with  discord  within  and  invasion  without,  he 
would  have  defied  him  to  have  done  as  he  did."  In  the  discus- 
sions of  the  Council  of  State,  Cambaceres  was  considered  as  re- 
presenting the  opinions  of  the  old  aristocracy,  Lebrun  those  of 
the  modern  republicans:  Buonaparte  was  called  the  consolidated 
third;  and  in  acting  as  umpire  between  the  two  and  listening  to 
their  arguments,  had  not  the  less  difficulty  in  mastering  both. 

The  Concordat,  though  a  favorite  and  long  meditated  scheme, 
was  attended  with  many  difficulties  in  the  execution  and  unpleas- 
ant consequences  in  the  sequel.  After  the  battle  of  Marengo, 
Napoleon  had  ordered  Murat,  who  had  marched  against  the  Nea- 
politan troops,  to  spare  Rome,  and  had  restored  his  temporal  do- 
minions to  the  Pope  ;  in  return  for  which  he  was  to  give  to  France 
her  old  religion  and  a  new  sovereign.  The  treaty  was  signed 
the  1-th  of  September,  1301.  A  proclamation  of  the  Consuls 
notified  the  re-establishment  of  the  Catholic  worship  some  time 
afier  ;  and  on  Easter  Sunday  (1S02,)  the  new  ordonnance  was 
solemnly  carried  into  effect  at  Paris.  All  the  great  bodies  of  the 
state,  the  civil  authorities,  and  the  Consuls  repaired  with  great 
pomp  and  ceremony  to  the  Church  of  Notre-Dame.  As  a  proof 
how  little  regular  progress  had  been  made  in  etiquette,  there  were 
stiil  several  hackney-coaches  in  the  procession.  It  was  on  this 
occasion  for  the  first  time  that  the  household  of  the  First  Consul 
put  on  livery.  An  invitation  had  been  addressed  to  the  public 
functionaries  and  members  of  the  diplomatic  body  to  follow  the 
example.  Mass  was  performed  with  pontifical  magnificence  bv 
Cardinal  Caprara.  The  new  bish  ps  took  the  oath  of  allegiance 
to  the  Republic.  After  a  discourse  delivered  by  M.  de  Bois^e- 
lin,  Archbishop  of  Tours  (the  same  who  had  preached  the  sermon 
on  the  coronation  of  Louis  the  XVI.)  a  Te  Deum  for  the  general 
peace  and  the  re-establishrnent  of  the  church  concluded  this  reli- 


PEACE   OP   AMIENS.  209 

gious  ceremony,  with  which  every  kind  of  military  pomp  was 
mingled,  and  which  was  announced  to  the  capital  in  the  morning 
hy  discharges  of  artillery.  At  night  there  was  an  illumination 
and  concert  in  the  garden  of  the  Thuilleries.  The  peace  of 
Amiens  and  the  Concordat  became  the  favorite  subjects  of  the 
French  artists.  The  Exhibition  of  that  year  was  resplendent  with 
allegorical  cars  of  victory  and  triumphal  arches  of  peace,  as  fine 
and  as  evanescent  as  the  rainbow  ! 

The  military  had  a  great  repugnance  to  the  now  arrangement, 
and  there  was  some  art  used  in  getting  them  to  attend  the  cere- 
mony at  Notre-dame.  Berthier  invited  the  principal  to  breakfast 
with  him,  whence  he  took  thorn  to  the  First  Consul's  levee,  so 
that  they  could  not  excuse  themselves  from  accompanying  him. 
On  their  return,  Buonaparte  asked  Delmas  what  he  thought  of 
the  ceremony  1  He  replied,  "  It  was  an  admirable  capucinade. 
All  that  was  wanting  to  complete  it  was  a  million  of  men  who 
have  sacrificed  their  lives  to  overturn  what  you  are  trying  to  re- 
establish !"  This'  sarcasm  did  not  go  unpunished.  Rapp,  who 
was  privileged  to  say  what  he  pleased,  being  asked  if  he  should 
go  to  mass,  answered  the  First  Consul  in  the  negative  ;  but 
added  he  had  no  objection  to  the  priests,  "  provided  he  did  not 
make  them  his  aides-de-camp  or  his  cooks."  In  fact,  from  the 
little  esteem  in  which  they  are  held,  the  French  priests  to  this 
day  look  like  fellows  who  have  stolen  something.  In  Italy,  they 
have  none  of  this  dejected,  sneaking  look  !  After  the  Concordat 
the  decade  was  regularly  exchanged  for  the  week,  and  the 
public  offices  were  shut  on  Sundays.  The  adoption  of  the  new 
system  cost  Napoleon  more  uneasiness  and  trouble  than  was  sus- 
pected. The  refractory  priests  gave  themselves  great  airs  upon 
H  :  the  Fope  became  more  untractable  than  before.  The  clergy 
were  constantly  urging  claims  inconsistent  with  the  existing  laws 
and  manners  of  society;  and  with  any  other  man  than  Buona- 
parte, would  certainly  have  resumed  their  ancient  preponderance 
or  brought  new  calamities  on  themselves.  Scandalous  scene 
ensued.  The  curate  of  the  church  of  St.  Roeh  having  refused 
to  read  the  funeral  service  over  the  remains  of  a  Mademoiselle 
Chameroi,  a  female  opera-dancer,  the  populace  were  near  ston- 
ing him  ;   and  Monge  said  dryly,  "  It  was  a   dispute  of  one  se 

is* 


210  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

of  actors  against  another."  The  First  Consul  put  a  stop  to  these 
proceedings  ;  but  was  it  possible  to  suppress  the  spirit  in  which 
they  originated,  and  which  lurked  under  tiie  cowl  and  surplice, 
like  the  plague  in  tainted  robes  ? 

The  affairs  of  St.  Domingo  were  another  rock  on  which  this 
double  policy  split.  What  was  he  to  make  of  that  gigantic  group 
of  black  heads  ranged  round  the  standard  of  revolt  1  Was  he  to 
proclaim  their  unqualified  enfranchisement  and  natural  indepen- 
dence and  to  extend  to  them  all  the  benefits  of  the  Declaration 
of  flights,  in  disregard  of  circumstances  and  consequences  ? 
This  cosmopolite  philanthropy  would  be  contrary  to  all  his  max- 
ims and  principles  of  government.  Was  he  to  resolve  on  their 
absolute  subjugation  or  indiscriminate  slaughter?  This  would 
be  equally  repugnant  to  humanity  and  prudence.  What  then 
was  he  to  do  ?  After  considering  whether  he  could  not  play  off 
tne  men  of  color  against  them  (like  chess-men  on  a  board)  he 
resolved  with  great  justice  and  moderation  to  adopt  a  middle 
course,  that  is,  to  maintain  the  system  which  Toussaint  Louver- 
ture  had  established,  to  disarm  the  men  of  color,  to  extend 
Toussaint's  authority  over  the  whole  colony,  to  appoint  him 
commander-in-chief  of  St.  Domingo,  and  to  confirm  his  regu- 
lations respecting  the  civil  liberty  and  voluntary  labor  of  the 
blacks. 

All  now  went  on  well  for  two  years  (1800  and  1801.)  But 
Toussaint  himself  defeated  the  friendly  intentions  of  the  First 
Consul  and  the  prospects  of  his  countrymen,  instigated,  according 
to  Buonaparte,  hv  the  English,  who  foresaw  the  ruin  of  their  own 
system,  should  the  blacks  restrain  themselves  within  the  bounds 
of  moderation  and  propriety  in  submission  to  the  mother-country. 
Toussaint  threw  off  his  dependence  and  set  up  for  himself.  It  is 
curious  to  hear  Buonaparte's  complaints  on  this  occasion.  He 
savs,  "  To  give  an  idea  of  the  indignation  which  the  First  Consul 
must  have  felt,  it  may  suffice  to  mention  that  Toussaint  not  oidy 
assumed  authority  over  the  colony  during  his  life,  but  invested 
himself  with  the  right  of  naming  his  successor;  and  pretended 
to  hold  his  authority  not  from  the  mother-country,  but  from  a  soi- 
disant,  colonial  assembl}  which  he  had  created."  Recourse  was 
therefore  had  to  the  former  scheme  of  joining  with  the  men  of  co- 


PEACE   OF   AMIENS.  211 

iOr  against  the  blacks,  and  General  Le  Clcrc  was  sent  out  with  a 
considerable  armament  for  this  purpose.  The  expedition  was  at 
first  successful,  and  Toussaint  surrendered  himself  and  was  suf- 
fered lo  remain  in  the  island  ;  but  being  afterwards  detected  in  a 
clandestine  correspondence  with  the  English,  he  was  seized  and 
sent  a  prisoner  to  France,  where  he  died  in  consequence  of  his 
confinement.  The  war  after  his  departure  broke  out  afresh  ;  the 
most  shocking  excesses  were  committed  on  both  sides ;  and  Le 
(Merc  with  a  great  part  of  his  troops  having  fallen  victims  to  the 
yellow  fever,  the  negroes  remained  in  possession  of  the  govern- 
ment  of  the  island.  To  show  the  severity  of  Buonaparte's  char- 
acter in  public  affairs,  he  compelled  his  sister  Pauline  (the  wife 
of  General  Le  Clerc)  to  accompany  him  on  this  hazardous  expe- 
dition, in  order  to  lessen  the  dread  which  was  entertained  of  it. 
The  behavior  of  Buonaparte  to  the  colonists  has  been  violently 
censured  both  by  friends  and  foes.  His  conduct  was  not  cer- 
tainly modelled  on  the  maxim — Fiat,  justitia,  ruat  cce.lv.ni;  it  was 
not  that  of  a  romantic  and  impassioned  enthusiast  in  the  cause  of 
negro  emancipation  ;  neither  was  it  (as  has  been  pretended)  that 
of  a  fiend,  but  a  great  deal  too  much  of  an  ordinary  statesman 
and  man  of  the  world.  His  detractors  might  learn,  with  a  little 
self-reflection,  from  their  censures  of  him  to  form  a  juster  esti- 
mate of  their  own  idols.  The  worst  of  his  actions  are  only  on  a 
par  (a  degrading  one,  I  own)  with  the  best  of  theirs.  A  similar 
treatment  of  a  revolted  colony  of  ours  would  make  a  brilliant 
episode  in  the  life  of  a  Lord  Melville  or  a  Lord  Bathurst.  Buona- 
parte at  first  showed  every  consideration  for  the  blacks  ;  and  he 
only  grew  moody  and  exasperated  when  he  found  her  chief  colony 
torn  from  France  and  in  danger  of  being  thrown  into  the  hands 
of  England.  His  jealousy  on  that  head  instantly  turned  the 
scab1.  Alas  !  the  way  to  outstrip  us  would  have  been  in  the 
race  of  generosity  and  magnanimity,  and  not  by  trying  to  be 
foremost  in  that  of  selfish  policy  or  unfeeling  cruelty  !  The  death 
of  Toussaint-Louverture  was  one  of  those  topics  on  which  the 
tropes  and  figures  of  political  rhetoric  at  one  time  delighted  to 
dwell.  As  it  took  place  in  a  castle  in  Franche-Compte  and  not 
m  the  streets  of  London,  no  one  could  say  how  it  had  happened  ; 
dark  hints  were  thrown   out,  and  it  became  a  painful  mysterj, 


LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


over  which  imagination  drew  its  worst  colors,  and  malice  and 
prejudice  left  no  doubt  of  the  truth  !  After  so  many  stories  of 
the  kind  have  been  proved  to  be  equally  groundless  and  im- 
probable, one  might  suppose  that  this  would  have  been  discarded 
with  the  rest,  as  a  lawyer  flings  up  a  shameless  brief;  but  there 
are  some  minds  that  seem  eaten  up  with  the  measles  of  servility, 
and  whom  neither  the  height  of  genius  nor  universal  fame  can 
raise  above  that  low  pitch  of  moral  thinking  that  is  to  be  found  at 
the  second  tables  of  the  great. — Buonaparte  had  some  qualms  on 
the  subject  of  making  the  blacks  of  St.  Domingo  free,  and  leaving 
those  of  Martinique  and  other  islands  in  slavery,  which  inconse- 
quentially he,  proposes  to  remedy  by  a  law  declaring  that  "the 
blacks  shall  be  slaves  at  Martinique  and  at  the  Isles  of  France 
and  Bourbon ;  and  they  shall  be  i'vcc  at  St.  Domingo,  Guada- 
loupe,  and  Cayenne:''  as  if  this  geographical  separation  could 
stifle  the  pulse  of  liberty  when  it  had  once  begun  to  beat,  or  the 
fitness  of  Lhe  blacks  for  slavery  or  freedom  could  be  dependent 
on  positive  enactments.  Napoleon  labors  hard  at  the  point  of 
amalgamating  the  blacks  and  the  whites  by  the  medium  of  poly- 
gamy, and  states  that  he  had  held  several  conferences  with  theo- 
logians on  the  subject.  But  this  expedient  would  degrade  mai 
riage  instead  of  raising  the  blacks,  as  long  as  the  whites  con- 
tinued masters  at  home.  Would  Buonaparte  marry  a  French 
piiucess  to  a  black  chieftain?  No:  but  till  then,  his  system 
would  have  no  relation  to  the  polygamy  of  the  Fast. 

Thr  establishment  of  the  Polytechnic  and  other  schools  on  the 
mo.st  extensive  and  best-digested  plans,  carried  instruction  and 
improvement  to  everv  part  of  France.  Buonaparte  beasts  of 
his  munilieeiic"  and  exertions  in  this  respect,  ami  justlv  remarks 
that  none  but  a  bad  government  need  fear  the  information  of  the 
people,  lb'  merely  strove  to  keep  the  direction  of  this  power- 
ful engine  of  public  opinion  (by  giving  to  the  government  the 
choice  and  payment  of  the  teachers)  as  much  as  possible  in  his 
own  hands  :— it'  he  had  not,  there  were  plenty  of  other  hand-  into 
which  it  would  soon  have  fallen.  The  Institute  had  been  founded 
by  the  Convention;  and  contained  nearly  all  the  talent  and  sci- 
ence of  France.  Some  surviving  members  of  the  old  French 
Academy,  who  regarded  themselves  as  the  fine  gentlemen  of  let- 


PEACE   OF   AMIENS.  2i3 


ters  and  affected  to  look  upon  the  Institute  as  a  society  of  me- 
chanics  and  revolutionists,  undertook  to  set  up  an  opposition  to  the 
latter  under  the  auspices  of  Lucien  Buonaparte,  who  was  partial 
to  this  sort  of  pedantry  and  tinsel,  during  the  absence  of  his 
brother  at  Marengo  ;  but  soon  after,  the  lofty  pretensions  of  the 
Academicians  were  quashed,  and  they  were  admitted  as  the  se- 
cond class  of  the  Institute.  In  France  science  was  associated 
with  the  period  of  the  Revolution,  as  poetry  and  the  belles-lettres 
were  referred  to  the  age  of  Louis  XIV.  In  England,  on  the  con- 
trary, science  is  patronized  in  the  fashionable  circles  as  proving 
nothing;  while  elegant  literature  and  the  study  of  humanity  are 
studiously  banished  from  or  barely  tolerated  in  our  polite  lecture- 
rooms,  whatever  appeals  to  sentiment  and  imagination  being 
thought  dangerous.  The  Fine  Arts  were  courted  and  encour- 
aged under  the  Consulate.  Admired  pictures  were  purchased  by 
the  government  ;  and  distinguished  or  promising  young  artists 
had  splendid  apartments  assigned  them  in  the  Louvre.  A  colos- 
sal bronze  statue  of  Nicolas  Poussin  was  cast  in  compliment  to 
French  art.  Josephine  had  a  real  taste  and  relish  for  works  of 
art,  which  her  husband  had  not  ;  but  whenever  she  contrived  to  pro- 
cure any  precious  chef-d'oeuvre  for  her  private  collection,  Buona- 
parte said  he  felt  himself  robbed  of  it,  because  it  no  longer  belonged 
to  the  public  and  to  France.  To  show  his  sense  of  the  value  of 
men  of  genius,  he  declared  at  a  later  period  that  had  Corneille 
lived  in  his  time  he  would  have  made  him  a  prince.  He  did  not 
disdain  to  be  the  personal  friend  of  Talma  ;  nor  did  Talma  ever 
repay  this  distinction  with  ingratitude  or  baseness.  Equal  atten- 
tion and  encouragement  were  given  to  the  fine  and  the  mechanic 
arts,  to  agriculture,  manufactures  and  commerce.  In  consider- 
ing the  relative  value  of  the  three  last,  Napoleon  gave  the  prece- 
dence to  agriculture,  which  raises  the  means  of  subsistence  ;  se- 
c  >nd,  to  manufactures  or  handicrafts,  which  produce  the  conve- 
niences and  ornaments  of  life  ;  third,  to  commerce,  which  ex- 
jes  what  is  superfluous  for  what  is  deficient  in  these.  M  ith 
respect  to  foreign  commerce,  he  decided  with  his  usual  keen  and 
comprehensive  glance  in  favor  of  the  principles  of  free  trade 
against  monopolies.  The  correctness  and  soundness  of  his  views 
are  indeed  acknowledged  on  all  hands,  with  the  sole  exception  of 


814  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


what  related  to  his  own  personal  power  and  ambition  ;  but  there, 
it  should  be  remembered,  others  did  not  leave  him  a  free  choice. 
Bridges  were  constructed,  roads  were  laid  out,  canals  dug,  which 
extended  the  inland  navigation  from  the  south  to  the  north  of 
France,  from  Marseilles  to  Amsterdam,  harbors  scooped  out  or  se- 
cured, forests  planted,  new  products  in  cultivation  imported,  the 
brewed  of  different  kinds  of  cattle  improved.  The  roads  over 
Mount  Cenis  and  the  Simplon  were  projected  and  begun,  the 
noblest  ever  executed  by  the  hand  of  man  ;  and  public  monu- 
ments, buildings,  and  embellishments  were  scattered  through  the 
capital  and  the  principal  towns  in  France  with  a  prodigal  and  be- 
nevolent hand.  The  finances  were  at  the  same  time  kept  in  the 
greatest  order;  public  peculators  and  jobbers  were  discounte- 
nanced and  punished  ;  every  general  plan,  almost  every  indi- 
vidual detail  was  submitted  to  Buonaparte's  immediate  notice  j 
and  in  his  own  household  the  strictest  economy  was  combined 
with  the  utmost  magnificence.  lie  examined  the  accounts,  kept 
an  eye  on  the  purveyors;  and  descending  to  the  minutest  details, 
was  like  some  other  princes  who  have  nothing  else  to  do,  his  own 
butler,  steward,  and  upholsterer.  On  one  occasion,  thinking  the 
charge  for  some  silk-hangings  with  gold  buttons  extravagant,  he 
took  one  of  the  buttons  in  his  pocket  and  walked  out  into  one  of 
the  streets  in  Paris  to  ask  the  price  of  it.  The  affairs  of  Europe, 
the  army,  the  police,  the  administration  of  justice,  prisons,  the  press, 
public  works  wore  all  undm-  his  constant  inspection  and  control. 
Often,  after  laboring  all  day  in  overlooking  papers  or  comparing 
plans,  dispatches  came,  and  he  sat  up  all  night  to  read  and  an- 
swer them,  llis  secretaries  were  worn  out  with  tin1  fatigue, 
lie  went  through  all  this  accumulation  of  labor  himself  with  so 
little  effort  and  so  little  need  of  anv  stimulus  but  the  importunate 
activity  of  his  own  mind,  that  he  \i<fd  at  this  period  of  his  life  to 
take  nothing  but  lemonade.  The  universal  authority  which  he 
thus  exerted,  and  of  which  no  other  persi  >n  was  capable,  be  wished 
'  >  e  iiiceutrate  more  and  more  within  himself,  and  to  make  the 
portentous  responsibility  hereditary.  The  only  fault  of  all  that 
lie  did  1'ir  France  was,  that  though  it  rocived  the  sanction  of 
the  general  opinion,  it  emanated  almost  solely  from  himself,  and 
there  was  no  provision  to  check  the  abuse  of  discretionary  power 


PEACE   OF   AMIENS.  J>J5 

or  to  secure  the  continuance  of  its  beneficial  tendency.  To  be 
sure,  there  was  no  danger  that  the  pride  in  creating  should  be 
joined  with  rapacity  in  appropriating  ;  and  a  score  of  well-in- 
formed men,  who  were  Buonaparte's  confidential  advisers  in  all 
cases  and  who  had  risen  from  the  people,  might  be  supposed  in 
the  immediate  circumstances  to  represent  the  people,  as  a  bucket 
of  water  taken  from  the  ocean  is  the  same  everywhere.  There 
were  at  this  time  no  distinct  classes  with  peculiar  advantages  and 
privileges,  always  prepared  to  vindicate  their  own  rights,  and  to 
impede  the  public  good.  Buonaparte  clearly  identified  the  for- 
tunes, well-being  and  glory  of  France  with  ids  own  ;  and  it  was 
only  by  straining  the  point  to  the  utmost  (and  by  chance)  that  the 
bubble  burst  and  relieved  the  world  from  paying  the  penalty  of 
the  full  chastisement  they  had  so  richly  merited. 

What  Buonaparte  himself  laid  the  most  stress  on,  and  regarded 
as  the  sheet-anchor  of  his  fame,  was  his  code  of  laws.  This  was 
a  work  of  great  labor,  judgment  and  utility.  It  reduced  the 
chaos  of  the  ancient  contradictory  and  arbitrary  laws  of  France 
into  one  just  and  simple  plan.  Mr.  Landor,  though  a  declared 
enemy  of  Buonaparte,  owns  that  he  has  left  the  best  system  of 
laws  in  Europe.  The  gainer  of  so  many  laurels  surprised  those 
about  him  more  by  his  insight  into  jurisprudence  than  he  had 
done  by  his  knowledge  of  government  or  his  achievements  in  war. 
His  coadjutors  in  preparing  and  framing  the  Code  jSapoleon  were 
Tronchet,  Rcederer,  Portalis,  Thibaudeau,  and  others.  The  First 
Consul  presided  at  the  greater  number  of  the  meetings  of  the 
Council  of  State  where  the  subject  was  debated,  and  took  a  ver^ 
active  part  in  the  discussions,  which  he  himself  provoked,  sus- 
tained, directed,  and  re-animated.  Unlike  certain  orators  of  his 
Council,  lie  did  not  seek  to  shine  by  the  roundness  of  his  periods, 
the  choice  of  his  expressions,  or  the  mode  of  his  delivery.  He 
spoke  without  preparation,  without  embarrassment  or  pretension, 
with  the  freedom  and  case  of  conversation,  growing  warmer  with 
the  effects  of  opposition  and  the  developement  of  various  ideas  on 
the  subject.  He  was  inferior  to  none  of  the  Council;  he  was 
equal  to  the  ablest  of  them  in  the  readiness  with  which  he  seized 
on  the  point  of  the  question  in  the  justness  of  his  remarks,  and 
the  force  of  his  reasonings.     He  surpassed  them  all  in  the  happi- 


216  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

ness  and  originality  of  his  expressions.  Many  persons  pretended 
to  believe  (for  mankind  like  to  resolve  the  great  into  the  little) 
that  Loere,  the  secretary,  had  given  a  certain  coloring  to  the  style, 
but  it  is  shown  in  the  admirable  "  Memoirs  of  the  Consulate"  by 
Thibaudeau,  that  he  uniformly  weakened  and  impaired  it.  The 
First  Consul  was  as  frank  and  candid  as  he  was  strong  in  debate. 

"  It  is  important,"  he  said,  "that  what  men  like  the  citizen* 
Tronchet  say  should  be  accurately  reported,  for  it  will  carry  an 
authority  with  it.  As  to  us,  men  of  the  sword  or  finance,  who 
are  not  jurists,  it  signifies  little  what  wo  think.  I  have  said  things 
in  the  heat  of  discussion  of  which  I  have  seen  the  error  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  afterwards  ;  but  I  do  not  wish  to  pass  for  better  than  I 
am.''  Napoleon  thus  characterizes  some  of  ins  fellow-laborers  in 
the  Council.  "Tronchet  is  a  man  possessed  of  a  vast  fund  of  in- 
formation and  an  extremely  sound  judgment  for  his  age.  I  find 
Rcederer  feeble.  Portalis  would  be  the  most  imposing  and  elo- 
quent speaker,  if  he  knew  when  to  have  done.  Thibaudeau  is 
not  adapted  for  this  kind  of  discussion  ;  like  Lucien,  he  requires 
the  tribune,  where  he  can  give  himself  full  scope.  Cambaceres 
is  the  advocate-general  ;  he  states  both  sides.  The  most  difficult 
of  all  is  the  summing  up,  but  in  tiiis  Lebrun  leaves  every  one 
behind." 

We  have  a  striking  account  of  wdiat  passed  in  the  interior  of 
the  Thuilleries  and  of  Buonaparte's  own  mind  on  the  two  great 
points  of  his  advancement  to  power  and  the  renewal  of  the  war 
in  the  same 'authentic  and  impartial  work.  The  particulars  are 
too  important  and  characteristic  to  be  omitted  here.  Josephine 
appears  to  have  been  kept  in  continual  alarm  by  the  projects  in 
agitation  respecting  the  establishment  of  hereditary  succession 
and  her  own  divorce  as  connected  with  it.  As  fir  back  as  the 
explosion  of  the  Infernal  Machine,  she  said  to  Rcederer,  who  was 
attacking  Fouche,  •'  Those  are  Buonaparte's  worst  enemies  who 
wish  to  inspire  him  with  ideas  of  hereditary  succession  and  di- 
vorce."     On  the  appointment  of  Bu  n   parte  Consul   for  life  with 

*  T!ii-  t'-:-;:i  h:i'l  not  ]  -'  its  value  at  the  time.  One  of  the  most  ani- 
mated altercations  in  the  Tribunate  was  in  consequence  of  the  substitution 
of  the  term  suljccts  fur  that  of  citizens,  in  the  treaty  of  Russia  some  time 
before 


PEACE    OF   AMIENS.  217 


the  power  of  naming  his  successor  (I Oth  August,  1802)  the  fol, 
lowing   conversation    took   place  on  the    subject    at    Malmaison. 

whither  the  Counsellor  of  State  N had  gone  on  particular 

business. 

The  First  Consul.  "  Well,  what  is  there  new  at  Paris  ?" 

N.   "  Nothing  that  you  do  not  know." 

B.   <;  What  is  it  they  say  ?" 

N.  "  They  talk  much  of  the  decree  of  the  Senate." 

B.  "  Aye  :  and  what  is  the  general  opinion  V 

N.   "  Some  are  for,  others  against  it." 

B.   "  And  what  is  your  own  opinion  ?" 

N.   "  It  is  a  question  tried  and  judged." 

B.   "  And  lost  ?     Is  it  not  so?" 

K.   "  It  is  not  dilTicult  for  you  to  guess  my  meaning." 

B.  "  I  do  not  find  fault  with  you  for  it,  I  know  you  are  an 
honest  man.  But  my  good  friend,  you  will  be  cured  of  your 
reveries  :  we  cannot  go  on  as  we  have  done.  France  will  not  be 
the  less  free,  and  she  will  be  the  first  power." 

N.  "  Do  von  think  then  that  a  decree  of  the  Senate  and  a  vote 
of  the  people*  a,-e  such  sure  guarantees,  and  that  you  could  not 
have  remained  '  Consul  without  it  ?" 

B.  "  I  am  aw  are  that  it  is  a  feeble  security  for  the  interior  ;  but 
it  has  a  good  efiect  on  foreign  states.  I  am  from  this  moment  on 
a  level  with  ot'.'cr  sovereigns;  for  by  a  just  reckoning  they  are 
only  what  they  are  for  life.  They  and  their  ministers  will  respect 
me  more.  It  is,  not  fit  that  the  authority  of  a  man  who  takes  the 
lead  in  the  ut^jirs  of  Europe  should  be  precarious,  or  should  at 
least  seem  so."f 

IV.  !'  The  opinion  of  foreigners  is  of  much  less  importance  than 
thai:  of  France." 

B .  "  With  the  exception  of  a  few  madmen  who  only  wish  for 
disorder,  and  of  some  well-meaning  enthusiasts  who  dream  of  the 

*  Tli?  people  had  voted  for  the  Consulship  for  life  by  a  majority  of  three 
millions  to  a  few  hundred  discontented  voices.  Carnot  had  protested 
against  it  :  and  La  Fayette  had  only  consented  to  it,  ou  condition  that  the 
First  Consul  would  allow  the  liberty  of  the  press. 

\  This  seems  a  fair  practical  answer  to  the  doubt  of  stability  in  Lord 
Grenville's  Note. 

VOL.    IT.  11  10 


21S  LIFE    OF    XAPOLEOZN. 

republic  of  Sparta,  France  is  desirous  of  stability  and  strength  in 
the  government.'"' 

N.  "  There  is  a  greater  number  of  persons  than  you  think, 
who  dream  not  of  the  republic  of  Sparta,  but  of  the  French  Re- 
public. The  impression  of  the  Revolution  is  still  quite  fresh, 
and  the  transition  to  another  order  of  things  and  ideas  somewhat 
sudden." 

B.  "  The  men  of  the  Revolution  have  nothing  to  fear;  I  am 
their  best  guarantee." 

-V.  ;-  What  will  become  of  the  men,  when  the  tiling  shall  have 
erased  to  exist  ?"  Then   passing  to  the  subject  of  the 

designation  of  his  successor,  he  approved,  or  pretended  to  approve 
of  X.'s  opposition  to  the  measure,  who  observed  that  four  or  five 
of  them  had  looked  upon  it  in  the  light  of  an  alienation  of  the 
sovereignty  of  the  people. 

B.  (interrupting  him  warmly)  "  It  was  Roederer  who  of- 
ficiously brought  forward  this  question.  When  1  was  told  what 
had  passed.  I  said,  '  Who  is  it  you  would  have  me  choose  ?  One 
of  my  brothers  V  The  nation  has  indeed  consented  to  be  gov- 
erned by  me,  because  I  had  acquired  a  high  degree  of  glory  and 
rendered  it  signal  services  ;  but  it  will  say  that  it  has  not  for  that 
reason  sold  itself  to  my  family.  As  to  my  successor,  I  know  no 
one  who  has  the  necessary  qualifications,  and  whom  the  nation 
would  approve.  Is  it  Joseph  or  Lucien  who  was  supposed  to 
have  urged  this  measure  ?" 

N.  "  Lucien,  and  that  excited  some  apprehension  :  in  short, 
the  expectation  of"  I  know  not  what  changes  spreads  inquietude 
and  alarm  everywhere.''' 

B.  "  What  would  von  have  ?  I  hear  a  talk  of  guarantees  for 
the  nation,  nf  great  bodies  composed  of  the  great  proprietors  for 
life,  or  even  hereditary." 

A.  "This  is  the  j'mrth  Constitution  in  twelve  years;  if  we 
change  this,  where   shall  we  stop  ?" 

B.  "  It  is  b"t!er  to  environ   the  one  we   have    with   proper  con 
sidi  rati  >n.      And  as  to  these   irrand    c  n-ps   that   they  talk  of.  what 
w    iild    tl     v    turn    oUt    when    we    had    Hi   sen   thorn?      Something 
quite  diiierent    from   what  was    proposed.      They  are  the  men  of 
91,  who  wish  to  come  in  under  this   imposing  designation,  Rcede- 


PEACE   OF   AMIENS.  219 

,-er,  Mounier,  La  Fayette,  Latour-.Maubourg,  and  all  the  rest. 
Judge  now,  what  we  could  expect  from  these  men,  who  are 
always  mounted  on  their  metaphysics  of  89.  The  two  last  have 
written  to  me  to  say  that  they  would  give  their  assent  to  the  Con- 
sulship  for  life,  on  the  condition  that  I  would  re-establish  the 
liberty  of  the  press.  The  liberty  of  the  press  indeed  !  I  should 
no  sooner  have  established  it,  than  I  should  have  thirty  royalist 
journals  and  a  proportionable  number  of  Jacobin  ones  start  up 
against  me.  I  should  have  to  govern  once  more  with  a  minority, 
a  faction,  and  to  recommence  the  Revolution,  while  all  my  efforts 
have  been  directed  to  govern  with  the  nation.  And  then  again, 
the  opinion  of  these  Messieurs,  these  grand  proprietaries,  would 
be  against  the  Revolution  ;  they  have  all  of  them  suffered  more 
or  less  by  it  and  hold  it  and  all  that  belongs  to  it  in  horror.  See, 
I  have  at  this  moment  in  my  hands  a  memorial  from  six  sugar, 
refiners.  Well  !  a-propos  of  sugar;  it  is  nothing  but  a  continued 
diatribe  against  the  Revolution,  by  which  they  think  to  pay  their 
court  to  me.  Suppose,  then,  I  have  to  propose  to  these  grand 
corps  thus  constituted,  a  conscription,  contributions;  they  will 
resist,  they  will  allege  the  interests  of  the  people.  Let  me  stand 
in  need  of  strong  measures  in  difficult  circumstances;  they  will 
be  alarmed,  they  will  abandon  me  through  pusillanimity.  If  I 
provoke  an  opposition  on  revolutionary  principles,  the  nation  will 
not  trouble  itself  about  it.  Let  these  grand  corps  organize  a 
counter-revolutionary  opposition,  and  they  will  carry  a  good  part 
of  the  nation  with  them.  It  is  indispensable  that  the  Government 
should  iemain  in  the  hands  of  the  men  of  the  Revolution  ;  that  is 
their  only  chance.  In  a  word,  these  gentlemen  would  cry  out 
against  the  arbitrary  conduct  of  Government,  and  not  leave  me  a 
single  minister.  As  it  is.  1  do  not  mind  them.  Not  that  a  gov- 
ernment is  to  be  unjust,  but  it  cannot  avoid  some  arbitrarv  acts. 
1  have  two  hundred  Chouans  detained  in  prison  ;  were  I  to  have 
them  brought  to  trial,  they  would  be  acquitted." 

.V.    •■  You  may  believe  that  I   enter  into  all    you    have   said  on 

lis  last  questior.      I  do  not  justify  all  the  men  of  the  Revolution  ; 

I  speak  of  then     in  a  mass;   and  it  is  only   they  who    can   defend 

heir  own   work    and   the  change   which    it   has    produced  in  the 

ideas  of  Franco  ind   Europe.      I:  is  n  me  but  they  who  are  your 


220  LIFE   OF   XAPOLEOX. 


true  friends  ;  for  you  are  theirs,  and  their  surest  safeguard.  As 
to  the  privileged  classes,  they  are  irreconcileable.  They  will 
accept  of  places,  they  ask  nothing  better;  they  will  dissemble, 
bend,  and  crouch,  it  is  their  trade  ;  but  let  a  catastrophe  approach, 
they  will  come  out  in  their  natural  colors,  and  will  sacrifice  you 
to  their  ancient  idols.  They  will  never  really  regard  you  as  one 
of  themselves." 

B.  "  I  know  it  well  ;  these  persons  and  the  foreign  cabinets 
hate  me  worse  than  Robespierre." 

N.  "  With  respect  to  national  guarantees,  T  can  understand 
but  one — a  good  representative  system,  by  which  the  public 
wants  and  public  opinion  may  be  fully  manifested,  so  as  to  direct, 
without  weakening,  the  action  of  the  Government.  With  this, 
the  rest  would  come  in  time.-'' 

B.  "  Sieycs  spoilt  all  with  his  ridiculous  constitutions;  I  let 
him  have  his  way  too  much.  You  will  let  me  hear  your  further 
ideas.'"' 

JY.    (i  If  I  am  allowed  to  be  frank.1' 

B.   (i  That  is  understood  without  a  word  said." 

Really  in  these  circumstances,  with  this  inertness  in  the  peo- 
ple, with  this  proneness  to  defection  in  the  chief's,  surrounded  by 
flatterers,  forced  on  by  the  Allies,  with  his  good  sword  and  his 
ambition  in  carve  out  his  way  for  him.  though  I  might  wish  that 
another  course  had  been  pursued,  yet  I  do  not  see  how  it  could 
be  heiped  ;  and  I  and  others  who  have  not  bowed  the  knee  to  idols 
nor  eaten  of  the  unclean  thing,  have  this  at  least  to  thank  him 
fjr — that  fiir  fifteen  years,  if  he  did  not  restore  the  vital  spirit  of 
liberty,  lie  turned  its  tomb  in-  i  a  citadel  to  keep  its  old  and  dea  11  y 
foes  fr  mi  in-ukin^  over  its  corse,  and  bv  being  a  scourge  and  a 
terror  to  tyrants,  could  not  hut  save  'lie  principle  oi  tin.'  lb 
t:   n,  while  he  saved  himself. 

While  these  discissions  wore  ponding,  J  s  phine  fluttered  ah  »ut, 
ding  with  appreliensi  n.  listening  to  everv  breath,  and  utter- 
ing her  dissatisfaction  and  doubts  to  all  whim  she  e  ail  I  interest 
in  her  b-dialf.  She  seeni"d  !  i  shrink  instinctively  from  this  new 
and  pathless  career,  of  which  she  only  saw  the  danger,  held  Buo- 
naparte back  from  it  as  from  the  edge  of  a  precipice,  and  might 
be  thought  to  have  foreseen  the  time  when  siie  and   her  daughter 


PEACE   OF    AMIENS.  22 


would  each  have  to  lean  on  the  arm  of  the  Emperor  Alexander, 

while  her  Cid  (hers  once  more  in   misfortune')   was  led  away  hv 

barbarous  and  ruthless  foes.      She  ran  to  me-.  '  N as  soon 

as  he  retired  from  his  audience  with  Buonaparte,  took  turn  to 
walk  with  her  in  the  park,  and  looking  anxiously  round,  began 
to  complain  bitterly  of  Lucien,  Talleyrand,  and  others.  Shortly 
after,  she  renewed  the  conversation.  "Be  sure, ;'  she  said,  "tney 
have  not  given  up  their  project  of  hereditary  succession,  and  thai 
it  v.T.l  take  place  sooner  or  later.  They  are  desirous  that  the 
First  Consul  should  have  offspring,  by  no  matter  wnom,  and  that 
1  should  afterwards  adopt  it  ;  for  they  are  sensible  how  much 
Buonaparte  would  do  himself  wrong,  were  he  10  put  away  a  wife 
who  was  attached  to  him  at  a  time  when  he  was  without  power, 
and  to  whose  daughter  he  has  married  his  brother.  But  never,  I 
have  told  him.  would  1  lend  myself  to  such  infamy.  Besides,  it 
is  a  mistake  to  imagine  the  people  would  allow  a  spurious  off- 
spring to  succeed.  1  cannot  help  thinking  that  in  that  case  Lu- 
cien would  try  to  enforce  his  pretensions.  They  will  begin  by 
doing  all  they  can  to  alienate  Buonaparte  from  me.  They  have 
hinted  at  a  handsome  allowance,  if  he  \v>tc  to  divorce  me;  but  1 
replied,  that  if  that  were  to  happen,  I  would  take  n  thing  from 
him.  I  would  dispose  of  my  diamonds  and  purchase  a  country- 
house,  where  I  could  live  happily  enough,  would  they  only  let 
me  do  so.  It  is  only  within  these  fvw  days  that  poor  Ilortense 
has  felt  some  slight  illness,  though  she  is  in  her  ninth  mouth:  1 
tremble  at  the  thought,  in  consequence  of  the  infamous  rep  rts 
which  have  been  spread  abroad.  When  I  said  so  to  Buonaparte, 
he  replied,  'These  rumors  have  been  credited  by  the  public  or.lv 
because  the  nation  wished  me  to  have  a  child.'  I  told  him  he 
deceived  himself  greatly,  if  he  supposed  these  stories  had  any 
such  motive,  and  that  it  was  his  enemies  who  circulated  such 
calumnies.  But  this  answer  of  Buonaparte's  will  let  you  see 
what  are  his  intentions,  and  the  blindness  in  which  he  is  jLmgi  d 
by  his  schemes  of  grandeur.  lie  is  more  feeble  and  more  easily 
led  than  people  believe;  for  it  is  not  possible  to  account  in  any 
other  wav  for  the  influence  which  Lucien  exercises  ever  1  hu. 
He  is  acquainted  with  all  that  Lucien  has  said  and  wi.Lten  about 
him,  and  yet  he   suffers  himself  to    be  guided    by   him.      To  see 

19* 


222  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON". 

him  at  home  in  his  family  one  would  say  he  was  a  good  man,  and 
in  fact  he  is  so.  Fortunately  he  has  a  strong  sense  of  justice, 
since  without  that  they  would  make  him  do  much  worse  things, 
lie  one  day  asked  me:  'What  are  my  faults?'  I  replied,  'I 
know  of  two,  want  of  firmness,  and  indiscretion  ;  you  suffer 
yourself  to  be  governed  by  those  who  seek  only  your  ruin,  and 
are  so  fond  of  disputing  that  you  divulge  your  secrets.'  lie 
folded  me  in  hie  arms  and  owned  that  it  was  true.  When  I  point 
out  to  him  the  dangers  of  ambition,  he  answers,  'It  is  also  on  thy 
account  and  that  of  thy  family,  for  if  I  was  to  die,  thou  wouldst 
he  sacrificed  !:  Hut  what  a  pity  that  a  young  man  who  possesses 
so  many  claims  to  glory  and  to  the  homage  of  his  age  and  of  pos- 
terity, should  be  spoiled  by  flatterers!" — Josephine  was  inclined, 
from  her  affection  for  her  husband,  to  throw  the  blame  on  others; 
but  no  one  is  ruined  but  by  his  own  connivance  or  from  inevita- 
ble circumstances.* 

On  the  question  of  the  duration  of  peace  or  probable  renewal 
of  hostilities,  the  following  particulars  are  well  worth  giving,  as 
throwing  a  new  and  intimate  light  on  the  views  and  dispositions 
of  the  First  Consul. 

"  In  England,  the  peace  of  Amiens,    though   popular,  was  in 

*  Thibaudcau  observes  here,  that  (;the  ideas  of  the  unity  and  stability 
of  government  were  so  much  in  vogue,  that  it  they  had  dared,  or  if  the 
First  Consul  had  wished  it.  they  would  have  heaped  all  power  on  his  single 

he.-al.  The  intriguers  would  have  exploded  every  trace  of  democracy. 
They  wished  to  pon  -out  ate  all  authority  from  that  of  the  <  'onsul  f  r  life, 
down  to  the  mayor  of  the  must  obscure  village,  and  to  wean  the  attention 
of  the  citizens,  by  degrees,  from  public  atiairs.  in  order  that  ia  the  e  d 
they  might  be  altogether  estranged  from  them.  It  was  the  fashion  to  cite 
the  ancient  ih>'  n<!<n(r>.<  of  province-;  as  na  dels  of  administration,  and  the  old 
parliaments  as  pattern-  for  courts  of  justice.      There  was  m  t  a  single  in-ti- 

deerird  for  its  intolerable  abase-;  and  proscribed  by  the  voice  of  the 
nation,  that  .lid  not  then  find  apologi.-ts  and  defenders.'1  How  ridiculous 
aiel  o'liou--  k11  this  — ais.  ;  I In  \  !  t  of  ant i'piity  and  the  sanction  of 
; '•■•jadice  raid  tradition  on  its  side!  Our  /,'■/>■.  ('/••.«•.  the  declaimers  against 
toe  ex  ere;-",  but  dupes  -  ■    ■;•  r.iry  power,  thought  it  best, 

instead  of  letting  any  such  patehi  1  - u ; .  system  fall  in  pieces  from  sheer 
antipathy  to  itself,  or  when  no    h  :  _o  r  -up]    -rod   by  the  hand  that  rinsed  it 

■  a  ay  warrant  but  his  momentary  will,  to  have  it  io  oci  ct  d  in  the  rock 
of  age:.,  at- -I  vested  as  a  sacred  right  in  a  privileged  race  ! 


PEACE   OF   AMIENS.  22- 

he  opinion  of  politicians  of  all  parties  little  better  than  a  compul- 
sory step,  and  consequently  a  mere  truce,  which  could  not  last 
long.  This  conclusion  resulted  from  all  the  discussions  which 
took  place  in  parliament,  and  from  the  countenance  which  the 
English  Ministry  afforded  to  the  clandestine  intrigues  kept  up  in 
London  against  the  Consular  Government.  Had  the  First  Con- 
sul himself  entertained  a  different  opinion  of  the  peace  of  Amiens, 
he  would  not  have  been  deserving  of  the  high  place  which  he 
held,  nor  of  his  great  renown.  He  had  made  peace,  not  from 
necessity,  but  because  the  French  people  loudly  called  for  it ; 
because  it  was  glorious  to  France,  and  because,  on  the  part  of 
her  most  inveterate  enemy,  it  was  a  recognition  of  the  form  of 
government  which  she  had  chosen  to  adopt.  In  a  conversation 
with  one  of  his  Counsellors  of  State,  Buonaparte  expressed  his 
opinion  as  follows  : 

The  First  Consul.     "  Well,   Citizen ,  what  think   you  of 

my  peace  with  England  V 

Counsellor  of  State.  "  I  think,  Citizen  Consul,  that  it  does 
much  honor  to  your  government,  and  gives  great  satisfaction  to 
\he  French." 

First  Consul      "  Do  you  think  it  will  last  long?" 

Counsellor.  "  I  should  be  very  desirous  for  it  to  last  four  or 
five  years,  at  least,  to  give  us  time  to  recruit  our  navv  ;  but  I 
doubt  much  whether  it  will  extend  to  this  period." 

First  Consul.  "  I  do  not  believe  it  neither.  England  fears 
us,  the  Continental  Powers  are  hostile  to  us  ;  how  then,  if  so, 
hope  for  a  solid  peace  ?  Moreover,  do  you  imagine  that  a  peace 
of  five  years  or  more  would  suit  the  form  or  the  circumstances 
of  our  Government  ?" 

Counsellor.  "  I  think  that  this  repose  would  be  very  desirable 
for  France,  after  ten  vears  of  war." 

First  Consul.  "  You  do  not  comprehend  me  ;  I  do  not  make 
!■  a  question  whether  a  sincere  and  solid  peace  is  an  advantage 
:o  a  well-settled  state  ;  but  I  ask  whether  ours  is  sufficiently  so, 
not  to  stand  in  need  of  further  victories  ?" 

Counsellor.  '•  I  have  not  reflected  sufficientlv  on  so  important 
u  question,  to  give  a  categorical  answer ;   all  that  [  can  say,  01 


224  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

rather  what  I  feel,  is  that  a  state  that  can  only  maintain  itself  by 
war  is  most  unfortunately  circumstanced." 

First  Consul.  "  The  greatest  misfortune  of  all  would  be  not 
to  judge  rightly  of  our  position,  for  when  we  know  what  it  is  we 
may  provide  against  it.  Answer  me,  then,  whether  you  do  not 
apprehend  the  persevering  hostility  of  these  Governments,  whieh 
have  nevertheless  signed  peace  with  us  ?" 

Counsellor.  "  I  should  find  it  a  hard  matter  not  to  distrust 
them/' 

First  Consul.  "  Well  then,  draw  the  consequence.  If  these 
Governments  always  have  war  in  petto,  if  they  are  determined 
to  renew  it  one  day,  it  is  best  that  this  should  he  sooner  rather 
than  later;  since  every  day  weakens  the  impression  of  their  late 
defeats  on  their  minds,  and  tends  to  diminish  in  us  the  confidence 
inspired  by  our  late  victories ;  thus  all  the  advantage  of  delay  is 
on  their  side."' 

Counsellor.  "  But,  Citizen  Consul,  do  you  reckon  as  nothing 
the  opportunity  you  will  derive  from  the  peace  for  the  interna' 
organization  of  the  country  ?" 

First  Con.su I.  "  1  was  coming  to  that.  Assuredly,  this  impor- 
tant consideration  did  not  escape  my  attention  ;  and  I  have  given 
proofs,  even  in  the  midst  of  war,  of  my  not  neglecting  what  con- 
cerned the  institutions  and  the  prosperity  of  the  interior.  1  shall 
not  stop  there,  there  is  still  much  more  to  do  ;  hut  is  not  military 
success  even  more  necessary  to  dazzle  and  keep  this  interior  in 
order  ?  Be  well  assured  that  a  First  Consul  has  no  resemblance 
to  those  kings  by  the  grace  of  Cod.  who  regard  their  dominions 
as  an  inheritance.  Their  power  has  old  habits  to  strengthen  it  ; 
with  us.  on  ihe  contrary,  all  these  old  habits  are  stumbling-blocks. 
The  French  Government,  at  the  present  moment,  is  like  nothing 
thai  surrounds  it.  Hated  by  its  neighbors,  obliged  to  keep  down 
various  descriptions  of  malcontents  in  its  own  bosom,  it  has  need, 
in  order  to  overawe  so  many  enemies,  of  brilliant  achievements, 
and  consequently  of    vs  ar. 

Counsellor.  "]  own.  Citizen  Consul,  that  you  have  much 
more  to  do  to  establish  your  gov  eminent,  than  the  kings  our 
neighbors  have  to  maintain  rneirs;  but  on  the  one  hand,  Furope 
is  convinced  that  you    know  how  to   conquer,  and  to  recollect  this 


PEACE   OF   AMIENS.  22-5 

truth,  it  is  not  necessary  that  you  should  furnish  new  proofs  of  it 
every  year  ;  on  the  other  hand,  the  occupations  of  peace  are  not 
without  their  lustre  too,  and  you  will  know  how  to  rivet  admira- 
tion by  noble  undertakings." 

First  Consul.  "  Former  victories,  seen  at  a  distance,  do  not 
strike  much  ;  and  the  labors  of  art  only  make  a  strong  impression 
on  those  who  witness  them,  which  is  the  smallest  number.  My 
intention  is  to  multiply  and  encourage  these  labors,  posterity  perhaps 
will  make  more  account  of  them  than  of  my  victories;  but  for  the 
present,  there  is  nothing  that  carries  such  a  sound  with  it  as 
military  successes.  This  is  my  conviction  ;  it  is  the  misfortune 
of  our  situation.  A  new  government,  sucn  us  ours  requires,  I  re- 
peat  it,  to  dazzle   and   astonish   in  order  to  maintain   itself." 

Counsel/or.  "  Your  government,  Citizen  Consul,  is  not  quite, 
as  it  appears  to  me,  a  nurseling.  It  has  put  on  the  manly  robe 
since  Marengo  :  directed  by  a  powerful  head  and  sustained  by  the 
arms  of  thirty  millions  of  inhabitants,  it  holds  a  distinguished  place 
among  European  governments." 

First  Consul.  "Do  you  conceive  then,  my  good  friend  that  this 
is  enough  ?  No,  it  is  necessary  that  it  should  be  the  Jirst  of  all  or 
be  overpowered.''' 

Counsellor.  "  And  to  obtain  this  result,  you  see  no  other  means 
than  war  1" 

Firs!  Consul.  "  Yes,  Citizen  ,  I  will  maintain   peace  if 

our  neighbors  are  disposed  to  keep  it  ;  but  should  they  oblige  me 
to  take  up  arms  again  before  we  are  enervated  by  ease  and  a  long 
inaction,  I  shall  consider  it  as  an  advantage." 

Counsellor.  "  Citizen  Consul,  what  period  do  you  then  assign  to 
this  state  of  anxiety,  which  in  the  bosom  even  of  peace  should 
make  us  regret  war  ?" 

First  Consul.  "  My  friend,  I  am  not  sufficiently  enlightened  as 
to  the  future  to  reply  to  your  question  ;  but  I  ire]  that  in  order 
to  hope  for  more  solidity  and  good  faith  in  treaties  of  peace,  it  is 
requisite  either  that  the  form  of  the  surrounding  governments 
should  approximate  nearer  to  ours,  or  that  our  political  institu- 
tions should  be  a  little  more  in  harmonv  v/ith  theirs.  There  is  al- 
ways a  spirit  of  animosity  between  old  monarchies  and  a  new  re- 
public.    This  is  the  root  of  our  European  discords." 

11* 


2*6  LIFE    OF    XAPOLEOX. 


Counsellor.  "  But  cannot  this  hostile  spirit  he  repressed  by  tne 
smart  of  recent  recollections,  or  he  arrested  in  its  progress  by  the 
imposing  attitude  which  you  might  assume  ]"' 

First  Consul.  •■Palliatives  are  not  cures:  in  our  circumstances, 
I  consider  every  peace  as  a  short-lived  truce,  and  the  ten  vears 
of  mv  Consul-hip  as  doomed  to  war  almost  without  intermission. 
Mv  successors  will  do  as  they  can.  [This  was  previous  to  his 
being  chosen  Consul  for  life.]  As  to  the  rest,  be  on  your  guard 
against  believing  that  I  wish  to  break  off  the  peace  :  no.  I  shall 
not  act  the  part  of  the  aggressor.  I  have  too  strong  an  interest 
in  leaving  it  to  foreign  powers  to  strike  the  first  blow.  I  know 
them  well  :  they  will  be  the  first  to  take  up  arms,  or  to  furnish 
me  with  just  grounds  to  do  so.  I  shall  hold  myself  in  readiness 
fur  all  events." 

Counsellor.  "  Thus  then,  Citizen  Consul,  it  appears  that  what  I 
feared  a  few  months  ago  is  precisely  what  you  wish." 

First  Consul.  ••  1  wait  to  see  ;  and  my  principle  is  that  war  is 
to  be  preferred  to  an  ephemeral  peace:  we  shall  see  how  this  will 
turn  out.  At  present  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  to  us.  It  af- 
fixes its  seal  to  the  acknowledgment  of  mv  government  by  that 
p  iwer  which  has  held  out  the  longest  against  it.  This  is  the 
chief  point  gained.  The  rest,  that  is  the  future,  must  depend  on 
circumstances.  : 

According  to  this  account,  as  it  relates  to  the  grounds  of 
Buonaparte's  fon  ign  policy,  the  supposed  hatred  of  kings  to  the 
principles  of  popular  government  has  cost  France  and  Europe 
dear.  Whether  that  policy  was  sound  and  justifiable  or  not.  de- 
pends on  this  other  question  whether  that  hatred  was  real  or  sup- 
posed :  and  this  question  d  »es  not,  I  think,  admit  of  a  doubt.  To 
contend  with  any  chance  uf  sueei  -  ■  against  the  arnn  d  pn 
pride,    and    power  of   Europe,   something   more   than    men 

.  ...  iti   n.  ami  n    h   ..    '.'  in   external    professions  was   ne. 

.  .  ■■.■.  .'  ver  miirht  he  the  danger  or  the  inconveniences  on 
,;:<•  o;ipo-ite  side,  instead  of  fastidious  scruph  s  or  (Quaker  moralitv, 
i;  required  the  very  genius  of  heroic  daring  and  loftv  ambition 
'••  lad  all  in  proof."  or  a  champion  like  Talus,  the  Iron  Man  in 
h'  '"-';>' -r.    to   make    hi  .-•    it.      Evorv   one    will    oil  iw   that 

Buonaparte   ;ame  uu   to  tie  \    .-:    j    am   not  vcrv  anxious 


PEACE   OF   AMIENS.  22/ 

to  deny  that  he  perhaps  exceeded  them. — What  I  like  least  in  the 
foregoing  conversation  is  the  hint  thrown  out  of  an  approximation 
to  the  form  of  the  old  governments.  "  Farthest  from  them  was 
best."  It  was  too  much  to  conquer  and  to  imitate  them  too.  But 
the  one  left  an  opening  to  the  First  Consul's  schemes  of  personal 
aggrandizement  as  the  other  did  of  martial  glory.  The  splendor 
with  which  he  proposed  to  dazzle  the  enemies  of  the  Republic, 
seemed  already  to  contract  his  brows  into  a  frown.  Even  this, 
though  an  unlooked-for  and  the  least  favorable  issue  to  the  ques- 
tion, was  not  without  its  moral  use.  A  people  were  denied  the 
right  to  be  free  and  a  mark  set  upon  them  as  unworthy  of  the 
rank  of  men,  and  one  man  stepped  forth  from  amongst  them  who 
wiped  out  the  stain  with  his  sword,  and  set  his  foot  upon  the 
necks  of  kings,  and  humbled  their  pride  and  pretensions  with  the 
dust  by  placing  himself  on  an  equality  with  them  :  a  whole  people 
were  taunted  with  their  incapacity  to  maintain  the  relations  of  peace 
and  amity  for  want  of  a  head,  and  they  chose  one  man  among 
them  to  lead  them  forth  to  universal  conquest.  This  was  at  least 
one  way  of  asserting  the  cause  of  the  people,  and  of  answering 
the  claim  of  natural  and  indefeasible  superiority  over  them.  If 
not  the  triumph  of  the  best  principles,  neither  was  it  the  complete 
and  final  triumph  of  the  worst.  In  a  battle,  all  those  on  the  same 
side  claim  the  honor  of  the  victory,  though  the  general  has  the 
greatest  share;  so  free-men  can  hardly  complain  if  to  triumph 
over  their  unrelenting  task-masters  they  have  to  surrender  the 
chief  power  into  the  hands  of  the  ablest  among  them.  As  to 
France,  it  is  at  all  events  better  to  be  stopped  by  a  robber  than 
sold  for  a  slave;  and  as  to  the  Continent,  the  war  was  never  a 
national  quarrel,  but  a  struggle  between  the  different  classes  and 
races  of  men,  whether  one  should  be  considered  as  an  inferior 
order  of  beings  to  the  other.  If  it  were  a  question  between  the 
black's  and  whites,  the  color  would  at  once  decide  the  point  ;  to 
the  mind's  eye  the  complexion  of  the  dispute,  the  real  gist  of  the 
argument  is  no  less  clear  between  the  natural  rights  and  the 
hereditary  and  lasting  bondage  of  the  people.  Passion  and  power 
never  lost  sight  of  tins  distinction  :  reason  was  more  easily  stag- 
gered  and  thrown  off  its  guard.  There  are  some  who  think  the 
slightest  flaw,  a  single  error  fatal  to  their  own  side  of  the  question 


22S  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 

as  opposed  to  the  pretended  right  to  inflict  every  wrong  with  im. 
punity:  in  my  opinion  this  claim  alone  cancels  a  million  of  faults 
committed  against  it.  Anything  short  of  the  re-admission  of  such 
a  principle  is  virtually  "deliverance  to  mankind."  If  however  a 
nobler  and  wiser  (because  more  consistent  and  disinterested)" 
course  lay  open  to  Buonaparte,  he  did  not  want  a  Mentor  in  one 
who  had  every  title  to  be  so,  both  from  his  own  obligations  to  him 
and  from  Ins  well-known  attachment  to  the  cause  of  liberty.  At 
the  time  of  his  being  chosen  Consul  for  life,  Fayette  addressed 
the  following  letter  to  him. 

;,La  Grange.  1st  of  Prairial.  year  X  (1S02). 
"  General, 
."  When  a  man,  penetrated  with  the  gratitude  that  he  owes  you, 
and  too  sensible  of  glory  not  to  sympathize  with  yours,  has  added 
restrictions  to  his  suffrage,  they  are  the  less  to  be  suspected,  as 
no  one  will  rejoice  more  than  he  to  see  you  first  magistrate  for 
life  of  a  free  Republic.  The  1-th  of  Brumaire  has  saved  France, 
and  1  found  myself  recalled  by  the  liberal  professions  to  which 
you  had  pl<  dged  your  honor.  We  have  seen  since  in  the  con- 
sular [tower  that  repairing  system  which  under  the  auspices  of 
your  genius  has  done  such  great  things ;  less  grand  however  than 
the  restoration  of  liberty  will  be.  It  is  impossible  that  you,  Gen- 
eral, the  first  of  that  order  of  beings,  who  to  appreciate  themselves 
and  to  take  their  proper  rank  must  embrace  all  aires,  should  wish 
that  such  a  revolution,  that  so  many  victories  with  so  much  I 
so  manv  misf  rtum  s  and  prodigies  should  have  for  the  world  and 
for  V'Hiis"]f  no  other  result  than  an  arbitrary  government.  The 
Fivnch  nation  has  to  i  well  known  its  rights  to  have  f  :■_■  "  n 
them  entirely;  but  perhaps  it  is  more  in  a  state  at  present,  than 
in  its  first  effervesceni  e,  I       ■  c   ver  1  A'  ;  and  \ 

the  force  of  your  character  and  the  public  e  mlidence.  bv  the  su- 
ritv  of  vour  talt'iits.  of  y    .  .      '  \    ur  fortune,  ma v, 

in  re-e>tahlishin";   liberty.  ina.-t''i'  all  dami'Ts   and  allay  all  inqui- 

I  }  iers   nal    in 

fir  wishing  you  in   this  view-  •  -  .     .-:.:;,u    a   perma- 

nent ma^i>tracv  as  an  addition   to  }  iur  glory.      But   I   owe   it  to 
the  principles,  the  engagements,  arid   to  the  actions  of  my  whole 


PEACE   OF   AMIENS.  229 

»ife,  to  be  assured,  before  I  give  it  my  vote,  that  it  is  founded  on 
bases  worthy  of  the  nation  and  of  yourself. 

"  I  trust  you  will  be  satisfied,  General,  on  this  as  on  former 
occasions,  that  to  an  adherence  to  my  political  opinions  are  joined 
sincere  good  wishes  for  your  welfare,  and  a  profound  sense  of  mj 
obligations  to  you. 

"  Health  and  respect. 

"  La  Fayette." 

Every  day  the  irritation  and  dissatisfaction  of  the  two  govern- 
ments  that  had  just  concluded  peace  became  greater,  the  one  try. 
ing  to  maintain  its  temper  and  a  friendly  appearance,  the  other  to 
provoke  an  open  rupture  by  every  species  of  secret  calumny  or 
vulgar  taunt.  The  English  journals  were  filled  with  gross  md 
studied  insults  to  the  person  of  the  First  Consul,  and  he  com- 
plained that  "  it  was  in  vain  for  him  to  reckon  upon  peace,  while 
every  gale  that  blew  breathed  hatred  and  contempt  from  Eng- 
land."' in  spite  of  all  this,  people  still  trusted  to  the  continuance 
of  peace,  and  the  English  flocked  over  in  crowds  to  Paris.  They 
had  been  debarred  of  this  privilege  for  nearly  ten  years,  and  they 
were  devoured  with  eager  curiosity  to  see  the  effects  of  the  Revo- 
lution as  well  as  the  extraordinary  man  whom  victory  had  placed 
at  the  head  of  affairs.  They  expected  to  find  the  country  ex- 
hausted, agriculture  annihilated,  and  the  people  miserable.  They 
were  astonished  and  not  a  little  scandalized  at  the  national  pros- 
perity, the  splendor  of  the  capital,  and  the  magnificence  of  the 
court.  Paris  was  into\e.  uvea  wan  ttie  presence  of  so  many 
strangers.  Every  attention  was  paid  them,  every  preference 
was  given  them.  French  vanity  and  politeness  seemed  to  do- 
light  in  soothing  and  flattering  English  pride  and  jealousy 
The  only  question  was,  who  should  give  them  the  most  wel- 
come reception  :  all  Paris  was  on  tiptoe  to  make  a  few  thousand 
English  eat,  drink,  dance,  and  look  pleased.  The  women  wcni 
prodigal  of  their  fascinations ;  and  the  hospitality  and  courtesy 
which  were  carried  to  a  ridiculous  excess,  were  repaid  wi4h  char 
acteristic  sullenncss  and  scorn — the  English  thinking  there  must 
he  a  design  in  so  much  ostentatious  complaisance,  and  carrying 
back  their  personal  obligations  as  an  uneasy  make-weight  to  throw 

20 


230  LIFE   OF   XAPOLEOX. 

into  the  scale  of  a  new  war!  The  summer  of  that  year  was, 
however,  bright  and  serene  ;  most  of  our  countrymen  who  could 
afford  it  passed  it  under  cloudless  sides,  and  the  hope  of  peace 
was  a  satisfaction  to  all.  The  thoughtless  and  the  well-disposed 
believed  firmly  in  its  continuance  because  they  wished  it,  as  well 
as  for  the  following  reasons.  1.  War  is  an  unnatural  state 
and  cannot  last  forever,  so  that  the  imagination  always  looks 
forward  to  and  can  only  repose  in  the  enjoyment  of  peace. 
"J.  If  war  were  a  benefit  and  not  a  curse  (as  has  been  pretended 
before  now)  we  should  go  to  war  with  our  friends,  and  not  with 
our  enemies.  Therefore  men's  wishes  point  at  peace  if  their 
passions  do  not  disturb  it.  3.  The  French  had  gained  the  object 
which  was  at  stake — the  acknowledgment  of  the  Republic  ;  and 
numbers  of  the  English  were  more  ashamed  of  the  cause  in  which 
we  had  been  engaged  than  mortified  at  its  want  of  success.  The 
real  grounds  of  the  war  were  not  the  pretended  ones,  and  could 
not  be  suspected  except  by  those  who  were  in  the  secret.  And 
Jastlv,  it  was  believed  that  Buonaparte,  who  was  the  soul  of  the 
war.  and  who  had  put  an  end  to  it  by  the  fame  of  his  exploits,  was 
both  solicitous  and  qualified  to  reap  an  equal  glory  by  the  arts  of 
peace. 


RUPTURE   OF   THE   PEACE   OF   AMIENS.  23j 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 


RUPTURE    OF    THE    PEACE    OF    AMIENS. 

Of  my  object  in  writing  the  Life  here  offered  to  the  public, 
and  of  the  general  tone  that  pervades  it,  it  may  be  proper  that  I 
should  render  some  account  (before  proceeding  farther)  in  order 
to-  prevent  mistakes  and  false  applications.  It  is  true,  I  admired 
the  man  ;  but  what  chiefly  attached  me  to  him,  was  his  being,  as 
he  had  been  long  ago  designated,  "  the  child  and  champion  of  the 
Revolution."  Of  this  character  he  could  not  divest  himself,  even 
though  he  wished  it.  He  was  nothing,  he  could  be  nothing  but 
what  he  owed  to  himself  and  to  his  triumphs  over  those  who 
claimed  mankind  as  their  inheritance  by  a  divine  right  ;  and  as 
long  as  he  was  a  thorn  in  the  side  of  kings  and  kept  them  at  bay, 
his  cause  rose  out  of  the  ruins  and  defeat  of  their  pride  and  hopes 
of  revenge.  He  stood  (and  he  alone  stood)  between  them  and 
their  natural  prey.  He  kept  off  that  last  indignity  and  wrong 
offered  to  a  whole  people  (and  through  them  to  the  rest  of  the 
world)  of  beins  handed  over  like  a  herd  of  cattle,  to  a  particular 
family,  and  chained  to  the  foot  of  a  legitimate  throne.  This  was 
the  chief  point  at  issue — this  was  the  great  question,  compared 
with  which  all  others  were  tame  and  insignificant — Whether 
mankind  were,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  time,  born  slaves 
or  not  ?  As  long  as  he  remained,  his  acts,  his  very  existence 
gave  a  proud  and  full  answer  to  this  question.  As  long  as  he  in- 
terposed a  barrier,  a  gauntlet,  and  an  arm  of  steel  between  us  and 
them  who  alone  could  set  up  the  plea  of  old,  indefeasible  rinht 
over  us,  no  increase  of  power  could  be  too  great  that  tended  to 
shatter  this  claim  to  pieces  :  even  his  abuse  of  power  and  aping 
the  style  and  title  of  the  imaginary  (>'><]>  of  the  earth  only  laughed 
their  pretensions  the  more  to  scorn.  He  did  main'  things  wrong 
and  foolish  ;   but  they  were  individual  acts,  and  recoiled  upon  the 


232  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEOX. 

head  of  ihe  doer.  They  stood  upon  the  ground  of  their  own 
merits,  and  could  not  urge  in  their  vindication  Ci  the  right  divine 
of  kings  to  govern  wrong  ;"'  they  were  not  precedents  ;  they 
were  not  exempt  from  public  censure  or  opinion  :  they  were  not 
softened  by  prescription,  nor  screened  by  prejudice,  nor  sanctioned 
bv  superstition,  nor  rendered  formidable  by  a  principle  that  im- 
posed them  as  sacred  obligations  on  all  future  generations:  either 
they  were  state-necessities  extorted  by  the  circumstances  of  the 
time,  or  violent  acts  of  the  will,  that  carried  their  own  condemna- 
tion in  their  bosom.  Whatever  fault  might  be  found  with  them, 
they  did  not  proceed  upon  the  avowed  principle,  that  "  millions 
were  made  for  one,"  but  one  for  millions:  and  as  long  as  this 
distinction  was  kept  in  view,  liberty  was  saved,  and  the  [{.evolu- 
tion was  untouched  ;  for  it  was  to  establish  it  that  the  Revolution 
was  commenced,  and  to  overturn  it  that  the  enemies  of  liberty 
waded  through  seas  of  blood,  and  at  last  succeeded.  It  is  the 
practice  of  the  partisans  of  the  old  school  to  cry  Vive  le  Hoi, 
quand  meme  !  Why  do  not  the  people  learn  to  imitate  the  ex. 
ample  ?  Till  they  do,  they  will  be  sure  to  be  foiled  in  the  end 
by  their  adversaries,  since  half-measures  and  principles  can  never 
prevail  against  whole  ones.  In  fact.  Buonaparte  was  not  strictly 
a  free  agent,  lie  could  hardly  do  otherwise  than  he  did.  ambi- 
tion apart,  and  merely  to  preserve  himself  and  the  country  ho 
ruled.  France  was  in  a  state  of  siege  ;  a  citadel  in  which  Free- 
dom had  hoisted  the  (lag  of  revolt  against  the  threat  of  hereditary 
servitude;  and  that  in  the  midst  of  distracti  n  and  convulsions 
consequent  on  the  sentence  of  ban  and  anathema  passed  upon  it 
bv  the  vc<\  >>{'  Kuropc  f>r  having  engaged  in  this  noble  struggle, 
required  a  military  dictator  to  repress  internal  treachery  and 
headstrong  factions,  and  repel  external  force.  Who  then  shall 
blame  Fmonaparto  fir  having  taken  the  n  ins  of  Government  and 
Hiii  v.  it  i  it  tight  hand  !  The  Kngli  ■  ::.  v,  h  i  having  set  the 
.  xample  of  lib  -rty  to  the  World,  di  1  all  they  c  mid  to  stiflo  it  ! 
(  )r  the  C  tiu"tital  Sovereigns,  who  were  only  acquainted  with 
iiiciph's  bv  their  fear  and  hatred  of  them  ?  Or  the  Immi- 
grant:-, traitors  to  the  name  of  men  as  well  as  Frenchmen  '  *  *r 
tin'  Jacobins,  who  made  the  tree  of  liberty  spout  nothing  but 
blood  ?      Or   its  paper   advocates,    who    reduce    it   to   a   harmles' 


RUPTURE   OF   THE  PEACE   OF   AMIENS.  233 

.heory  ?  Or  its  true  friends,  who  would  sacrifice  all  for  its  sake  ? 
The  last,  who  alone  have  the  right  to  call  him  to  a  severe  account, 
will  not  ;  for  they  know  that,  being  but  a  handful  or  scattered, 
they  had  not  the  power  to  effect  themselves  what  they  might  have 
recommended  to  him  ;  and  that  there  was  but  one  alternative  be- 
iween  him  and  that  slavery,  which  kills  both  the  bodies  and  the 
souls  of  men  !  There  were  two  other  feelings  that  influenced  me 
on  this  subject ;  a  love  of  glory,  when  it  did  not  interfere  with 
other  things,  and  the  wish  to  see  personal  merit  prevail  over  ex- 
ternal rank  and  circumstance.  I  felt  pride  (not  envy)  to  think 
that  there  was  one  reputation  in  modern  times  equal  to  the  an- 
cients,  and  at  seeing  one  man  greater  than  the  throne  he  sat 
upon. — 

The  former  war  with  France  was  put  an  end  to,  in  the  first 
place,  because  it  was  unsuccessful  ;  and  secondly,  because  it  was 
unpopular  with  a  considerable  party  in  the  nation,  who  were 
favorable  to  the  French  Revolution.  Before  embarking  finally 
in  a  struggle  which  was  felt  to  be  of  vital  importance,  and  which 
was  meant  to  terminate  only  in  the  destruction  of  one  or  other  of 
the  contending  powers,  it  was  thought  advisable  to  interpose  a 
hollow  peevish  truce,  which  could  be  broken  off  at  pleasure  ;  and 
which  would  give  those  who  had  hitherto  disapproved  the  attempt 
to  overturn  the  French  Republic  as  an  unprincipled  aggression 
on  the  rights  and  liberties  of  mankind,  but  who  were  grown  luke- 
warm in  the  cause,  or  were  tired  out  with  opposition,  a  plausible 
pretext  to  change  sides,  and  to  come  over,  with,  loud  clamor  and 
tardy  repentance,  to  the  views  of  their  King  and  Country.  "  It 
Mas  a  consummation  devoutly  to  be  wished''" — None  can  tell  how 
devoutly  but  those  who  have  known  what  it  is  to  suffer  the  priva- 
tion of  public  sympathy,  the  constancy  of  the  irritation,  the  fruit- 
lessness  of  perseverance,  the  bar  it  is  to  business  or  pleasure,  the 
handle  it  affords  to  enemies,  the  coldness  it  throws  on  friendship  • 
so  that  the  first  opening  was  eagerly  caught  at  towards  a  recon- 
ciliation between  the  Opposition  and  the  Government,  the  ardoi 
of  which  (on  one  side  at  least)  was  in  proportion  to  their  long  es- 
trangement. The  Minority  had  thus  redeemed  their  literal  pledge 
of  consistency  in  the  original  Revolutionary  quarrel,  and  migh' 
now  join  heart  and  hand  in  the  new  crusade  against  the  encrcacn- 

20* 


234  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

ments  and  ambition  of  Franco.  As  long  as  the  first  war  contin- 
ued, they  could  not  well  do  so  without  seeming  to  acknowledge 
themselves  in  the  wrong  ;  but  by  making  peace,  the  government 
ostensibly  took  this  responsibility  upon  itself;  and  with  a  new 
war.  gave  them  the  option  of  new  opinions,  so  that  they  must  in 
courtesy  return  the  compliment  by  taking  part  against  themselves. 
The  peace  of  Amiens  therefore  just  left  a  short  interval  or  breath- 
ing-space enough  fortius  compromise  of  principle,  and  marshall- 
ing of  public  opinion  against  the  common  enemv.  upon  distinct 
grounds  indeed,  but  with  the  old  grudge  at  bottom.  The  formal 
suspension  of  hostilities,  however,  and  the  commencing  again  on 
fresh  and  incidental  causes  of  provocation  gave  immense  ad. 
ditional  power  to  the  government,  and  an  impetus  that  carried  it 
forward  to  the  proposed  end  either  of  destruction  or  conquest  :  for 
it  flung  the  whole  practical  weight  of  public  opinion  in  England 
into  the  war-scab',  without  any  drawback  or  diversion  from  con- 
tending parties  or  feelings.  The  feeble  opposition  that  was  left 
chiefly  served  to  win  t  and  sharpen,  instead  of  blunting  the  edge 
of  deadly  animositv  :  and  many  of  the  new  converts  who  had 
hurled  up  the  n  d-cap  of  liberty  with  most  vi  donee  in  the  air, 
and  whose  suffrages  it  was  an  object  to  gain,  were  now  foremost 
in  raising  the  war-whoop  and  in  cheering  the  combatants. 

The  British  Government  and  Public  at  this  period  might  be 
divided  into  three  parties.  The  first  and  really  preponderating 
party  consisted  of  those  who  thought  that  no  peace  ought  to  be 
concluded  with  a  regicide  Republic;  and  that  it  was  nothing 
sh  rt  of  national  degradation  and  signing  a  bond  of  voluntary  in- 
famv  to  enter  into  truce  or  treaty  with  the  traitors  and  miscreants 
wh  i  bad  usurped  the  reins  of  G  ivernmont  in  France,  as  much  as 
with  a  den  of  robbers  and  murderers  whom  the  laws  of  God  and 
man  made  it  equallv  a  duty  to  pursue  *  i  x\<  n  dilation  or  uncon- 
diti  mal  surrender.  This  was  the  lu'irh  Tory  party,  the  school  of 
I i-'iurke  and  Wvndham.  and  more  particularly  including  the  Kind's 
t'vM;d-.  But  this  party  lj»-iiT_r  too  weak  both  in  numbers  and  in 
-'■:/■(•(-<  t')  i-arrv  their  point  openly  and  with  a  hiirh  hand,  they 
..■:•<•  obliged  to  yield  to  another  more  moderate  or  more  politic 
one.  who  undertook  to  manaLr»'  the  s  in  e  thing  f  r  th>  m  by  under- 
hand   means,  that  is.  by    professing  a  willingness  and   a  desire  to 


RUPTURE   OF   THE  PEACE   OF   AMIENS.  i  6 


make  peace,  and  throwing  the  blame  of  the  renewal  of  hostilities 
on  the  enemy.  Tins  party  was  the  cat's-paw  of  the  first  ;  and 
tin-  true  agents  and  promoters  of  the  secret  aims  of  power,  con- 
sisting  of  such  men  as  Pitt,  Addington,  &c.  the  more  knowing 
diplomatists,  the  gi'eater  part  of  the  public  press,  and  the  decent 
and  1  ss  violent  Church-and-King  men.  The  third  were  the 
dupes  of  the  two  first,  being  composed  of  the  great  mass  of  the 
p 'ople,  and  the  friends  of  peace  and  liberty,  who  believed  that 
D  ac  '  had  been  concluded  in  the  spirit  of  peace,  and  that  if  his 
Majesty's  .Ministers  were  compelled  to  break  it  oil',  it  was  tor  the 
causes  which  they  themselves  chose  to  assign  as  just  and  'awful 
one-.  Tii''  earliest  of  these  which  wrve  brought  forward  io  give 
the  alarm,  were  stories  of  armaments  in  the  ports  of  Prance; 
secondly,  Sebastiana  seen  creeping  like  a  rat  along  the  coasts  of 
tii"  Adriatic,  which  portended  the  speedy  loss  of  Egypt ;  thirdly, 
the  stipulated  retention  of  Malta  in  the  hands  of  the  Knights  of 
St.  John,  which  the  French  would  convert  into  a  stepping-stone 
to  our  possessions  in  India  ;  and  last! v.  the  meditated  conquest  of 
the  world  by  the  French  Consul.  All  these  pretexts  are  at  pres- 
ent given  up  as  vague  and  frivolous  by  the  most  staunch  and  able 
advocates  of  the  late  war,  who  lament  that  no  mention  wa.s  made 
by  our  statesmen  of  the  day  of  the  occupation  of  Switzerland  and 
tlie'  Confederation  of  Lombard  v  as  the  true  grounds  of  the  refusal 
to  execute  the  treatv  of  Amiens.  Neither  was  any  mention  made 
ot  another  equally  convincing  and  cogent  argument  against 
p  ace,  that  the  throne  of  France  was  not  as  vet  occupied  by  the 
Bourbons.  But  our  Ministers  being  determined,  in  pursuance  of 
this  last  object,  to  risk  the  existence  and  welfare  of  the  country 
on  the  issue  of  an  unprincipled  and  hypocritical  war.  could  bring 
fu'ward  no  excuses  tor  incurring  this  responsibility  and  balancing 
this  evil,  but  such  as  implied  (however  absurdly  and  falsely), 
that  the  same  risk  was  to  be  apprehended  every  moment  from 
the  insatiable  and  restless  ambition  of  Buonaparte. 

in  order  to  prepare  the  wav  for  this  desirable  turn  to  the  ne- 
g ooiati  ais  (for  so  it  was  considered  bv  the  furiously  loyal  and 
patriotic)  no  pains  had  been  spared.  During  the  short  interval 
of  peace,  every  mode  of  irritation,  recrimination,  and  inv-c't-e 
had  been  industriously  resorted  to  and  tacitlv  encouraged.     When 


236  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

the  most  revolting  charges  were  complained  of,  it  was  answered 
that  they  could  not  be  suppressed  without  tampering  with  the 
liberty  of  the  press,  though  it  was  well  known  that  the  slightest 
breath  from  authority  would  have  stilled  them  ;  and  a  celebrated 
advocate  on  the  trial  of  Peltier  is  supposed  to  have  been  sent  over 
by  Government  not  long  before  (but  on  a  sleeveless  errand)  to 
iiiid  new  fuel  for  the  flame  and  to  extract  new  poison  for  the  to  >th 
of  calumny  to  feed  upon.  Buonaparte  in  his  public  and  private 
character  was  uniformly  held  up  as  a  monster  of  ambition,  cruelty, 
arid  lust.  Every  body  knows  that  it  is  only  necessary  to  raise 
a  bugbear  before  the  English  imagination  in  order  to  govern  it 
at  will.  Whatever  they  hate  or  fear,  they  implicitly  believe  in, 
merely  from  the  scope  it  gives  to  these  passions;  and  what  they 
once  believe  in,  they  proceed  to  art  upon,  and  rush  blindly  on  their 
own  destruction  or  that  of  others,  without  pausing  to  inquire  into 
causes  or  consequences.  Their  own  fury  supplies  them  with 
resolution:  the  judgment  of  their  betters  directs  the  application 
to  their  cost.  Gloomy,  sullen,  suspicious,  brooding  always  on 
the  worst  side  of  things,  indignant  at  every  appearance  of  in- 
tstice,  except  when  it  is  committed  bv  themselves,  and  then 
scornfully  resenting  the  imputation  or  turning  round  and  boldly 
justifying  it  ;  quarrelling  with  and  maligning  one  another  till 
their  attention  is  roused  by  a  common  foe,  their  union  being  in- 
cri  ased  and  cemented  through  the  jarring  elements  of  which  it  is 
composed  j  never  satisfied  but  when  they  have  some  object  of 
jealousy  or  dislike  to  wreak  their  vengeance  upon,  they  are  the 
.  ipr-s  i  :  \vh  ii  ver  can  take  advantau  :  I  r  u;;Lr  ■  \ '  *  -  r  n  - 
abb',  headstrong  humors;  mistake  the  strength  of  their  passions 
and  prejudices  for  the  soundness  of  their  reason  and  the  fjood- 
iif-ss  of  their  cause  ;  run  from  artificial  terrors  into  real  dangers  ; 
have  a  sort  of  unconscious  obtusono-s  and  honlwmmic  even  in 
their  most  flagrant  acts  of  self-will,  which  thev  conceive  all  the 
.  must  admire  ;  show  the  same  blindfold  rage  in  the  pur- 
suit :  ' ■'.■_  lit  or  \\  r  <n-j  :  and  t  i  i,  ite  and  be  hated  is  the  only  thing 
in  which  they  are  sure  to  take  ■  .  |.      The  English   character 

is    surcharged   with   spleen,    di-trust,    and    haughtiness;    and    the 
-t  pretext,  the  shadow  ■  f  an   excuse,  a  rumor,  a  nickname, 
is  sufficient  to  make  these  qu  ,*   in   all  their  wonted 


RUPTURE   OF   THE   PEACE   OF   AMIENS.  337 

malignity.  Occasion,  as  one  of  our  own  poets  has  feigned,  eve. 
follows  Fury  hard  at  hand. — We  shall  see  that  these  remarks 
were  verified  at  every  step  of  the  proceedings  in  the  present  in- 
stance. A  writer  of  some  note  at  the  time  boasted  that  he  had 
done  more  than  any  one  to  bring  about  the  war  and  foment  a 
spirit  of  rancor  by  nicknaming  Buonaparte  The  Corsican.  This 
was  not  so  much  a  piece  of  idle  vanity  in  the  individual  as  a  just 
satire  on  the  nation  at  large. 

Buonaparte  himself,  despairing  of  establishing  a  cordial  under- 
standing with  England,  and  probably  piqued  at  the  ill  success 
his  advances  had  met  with,  began  to  vent  his  chagrin  in  indirect 
sarcasms  and  national  reflections.  On  one  occasion  he  broke  out 
in  the  following  terms: — "  They  are  always  citing  the  example 
of  England  for  its  riches  and  good  government.  Well  then  !  I 
have  got  its  budget :  I  will  have  it  printed  in  the  Moniteur.  It 
will  be  seen  that  she  has  an  actual  deficit  of  between  five  and  six 
hundred  millions.  She  has,  it  is  true,  a  considerable  Sinking 
Fund,  with  which  she  may,  as  they  pretend,  pay  off  her  debt  in 
thirty-eight  years  :  but  in  order  to  this,  it  would  be  necessary 
that  she  should  stop  short  in  her  career  for  once,  and  raise  no 
more  loans.  She  does  not  call  that  a  deficit  ;  but  she  sets  down 
among  her  receipts  a  loan  which  only  serves  to  increase  her  debt, 
and  ii  is  impossible  to  foresee  how  she  can  ever  wind  up  her  ac- 
counts on  such  a  system.  England  keeps  up  a  land-army  of  one 
hundred  and  ten  thousand  men,  which  costs  her  three  hundred 
and  thirty-three  millions  of  livres  annually.  It  is  enormous  and 
the  sign  of  a  bad  administration.  It  is  the  same  with  her  marine 
which  costs  four  hundred  and  six  millions  :  it  is  considerable,  no 
doubt,  but  the  expense  is  nevertheless  out  of  proportion.  People 
are  enraptured  with  England  on  hearsay  :  it  is  so  in  the  Belles- 
Leitres.  Shakespear  had  been  forgotten  for  two  hundred  years, 
even  in  his  own  country,  when  it  pleased  Voltaire,  who  was  at 
Geneva  and  visited  by  a  good  many  of  the  English,  to  cry  up 
this  author  in  order  to  pay  his  court  to  them;*  and  everyone 
repeated  after  him  that  Shakespear  was  the  first  writer  in  the 
world.      I   have   read   him  ;   there    is  nothing    in   his  works   that 

*  Voltaire  extolled  the  beauties  of  Shakespear  long  before  this  period,  in 
his  Letters  on  England. 


233  LIFE   OF   XAPOLEOX. 

approaches  to  Cornoille  or  Racine.  It  is  not  even  possible  to 
read  one  of  his  pieces  through,  without  feeling  pity  for  them. 
As  to  Milton,  there  is  only  his  Invocation  to  the  Sun  and  one  or 
two  other  passages  ;  the  rest  is  a  mere  rhapsody.  I  like  Vely 
better  than  Hume.  France  has  nothing  to  envy  in  England,  a 
country  that  its  inhabitants  leave  the  instant  they  are  able. 
There  are  at  present  more  than  forty  thousand  on  the  Continent." 
This  passage  may  at  least  serve  as  a  lesson  against  undervaluing 
an  enemy.  Bu  maparte  would  have  done  right  to  have  thought 
more  highly  of  the  capacity  of  the  English  in  certain  things,  and 
to  have  trusted  less  to  their  generosity,  lie  did  not  know  the 
flint  of  which  our  character  is  ordinarily  composed,  nor  the  fire 
that  sometimes  lurks  beneath  it. 

It  is  evident  that  Buonaparte  had  expected  or  wished  for  peace 
both  from  the  low  state  of  warlike  preparation  to  which  he  suf- 
fered the  army  to  be  reduced,  and  from  the  disappointment  and 
impatience  he  manifested,  as  the  hopes  of  it  gradually  vanished, 
and  tiie  designs  of  the  English  Ministers  were  more  clearly  seeu 
through.  They  showed  no  alacrity  in  executing  the  conditions 
of  ti;e  treaty;  for  people  are  in  no  hurry  to  do  that,  which  they 
do  not  mean  to  do  at  all.  Most  of  the  French  colonies  were 
given  back  ;  but  lie  retained  possi  ssion  of  the  Cape  of  Good  Elope, 
of  Alexandria,  and  Malta.  The  two  former  were  at  length  evac- 
uated also  ;  but  Malta  still  remained  a  bone  of  contention,  and 
was  ju-t  enough  to  answer  the'  purpose,  as  while  anv  part  of  the 
treaty  was  withheld,  nothing  was  really  granted.  It  was  a-  easy 
to  male'  peace  split  on  that  rock  as  upon  anv  other;  and  so  far, 
the  pri/.e  was  invaluable.  It  was  at  last  agreed  to  give  it  up, 
if  a  siillicieiil  Lruarantoo  f  >r  its  neutrality  could  be  fbund  :  hot 
when  this  guarantee  u;i<  p  -inted  out  bv  providing  a  garrison  of 
ins  and  Itus-iaiH.  instead  of  Xe;ip  limns,  that  also  was 
refused  of  course.  Any  terms  of  peace  Were  acceptable,  but 
'  cable  !  \»  *  [he  f  irs  of  Malta  b>-iiig  heivaftei 
k."i/.' d  upon  bv  the  Fi'.-neh  as  the  key  t  >  Firvpt  and  our  Eastern 
a   ss'  ss    :;-,  1  o  ■    .     I    :  that    :...;.   -  .  -h    apj  re  hi  nsi  ms    were 

M-riou.-ly  entertained,  or  weighed  so  much  as  a  feather  in  the 
Balance  ;    but  even  if  the-*,  re  was    a    jealousy  on   the 

;;art  of  our  merchants  or  statesmen  that  the  French  might  possibly 


RUPTURE   OF   THE  PEACE   OF   AMIENS.  239 

at  some  distant  period  wrest  their  acquisition  to  this  purpose,  yet 
no  such  plea  is  admissible  in  sound  policy  on  this  plain  and  broad 
principle,  that  there  is  no  providing  by  any  artifice  or  precautions 
against  all  possible  contingencies,  and  that  if  oui  selfish  and 
grasping  passions  were  as  long-sighted  and  speculative  as  they 
are  gross  and  narrow-minded,  there  could  not  be  a  moment's 
peace  or  security  for  the  world,  and  we  must  be  always  at  war, 
to  prevent  the  possibility  of  any  advantage  being  taken  of  us  in 
time  to  come.  We  seize  on  and  plunder  distant  continents,  and 
then  keep  the  world  in  amazement  and  dread  with  our  disinter- 
ested denunciations  against  the  ambitious  and  unprincipled  pro- 
jects of  others,  that  they  may  at  some  time  or  other  rob  us  of  our 
ill-gotten  and  uncertain  booty.  The  First  Consul,  uneasy  at  the 
delays  of  the  British  Ministry,  and  at  the  increasing  tone  of  ex- 
asperation on  both  side?,  so  early  as  the  11th  of  February,  1S03, 
had  an  interview  with  Lord  Whitworth  (our  ambassador.)  in 
which  for  the  space  of  nearly  two  hours  he  set  forth  the  various 
causes  of  his  dissatisfaction  with  the  English  Government  in  firm 
and  animated  language,  rising  in  fervor  as  he  proceeded,  but 
without  failing  in  the  usual  tone  of  courtesy  due  to  an  ambas- 
sador. 

He  first  complained  of  the  delay  of  the  British  in  evacuating 
Alexandria  and  Malta  ;  cutting  short  all  discussion  on  the  latter 
subject  by  declaring  he  would  as  soon  agree  to  Great  Britain's 
possessing  the  suburb  of  St.  Antoine,  as  that  island.  lie  then 
referred  to  the  abuse  poured  upon  him  by  the  English  papers,  but 
more  especially  by  the  French  journals  published  in  London.  He 
affirmed  that  Georges  and  other  Chouan  chiefs,  whom  he  accused 
of  designs  against  his  life,  received  relief  and  shelter  in  England; 
and  that  two  assassins  had  been  apprehended  in  Normandy  sent 
over  by  the  French  emigrants  to  murder  him.  This,  he  said, 
would  be  publicly  proved  in  a  court  of  justice,  as  was  afterwards 
done  at  the  trial  of  Pichegru  and  others.  From  this  point  he  di- 
gressed to  Egypt,  of  which  he  affirmed  he  could  make  himself 
master  whenever  lie  chose  ;  but  that  he  considered  it  trio  paltry  a 
st. ike  to  renew  the  war  for.  At  the  same  time  he  contended  that 
Egypt  must  sooner  or  later  belong  to  France,  either  by  the  falling 
to  pieces  of  the  Turkish  Empire,  or  in  consequence  of  some  agree- 


240  LIFE   OF    NAPOLEON. 

merit  with  the  Porte.  In  evidence  of  his  peaceable  intentions, 
he  asked,  what  he  should  gain  by  going  to  war,  since  he  had  no 
means  of  acting  offensively  against  England,  except  by  a  descent, 
of  which  he  acknowledged  the  hazard  in  the  strongest  terms. 
The  chances,  he  said  with  his  usual  pointed  frankness,  were  a 
hundred  to  one  against  him  ;  and  yet  he  declared  that  the  attempt 
should  be  made  if  he  were  now  obliged  to  go  to  war.  He  extolled 
the  power  of  both  countries.  The  army  of  France,  he  said, 
should  bo  soon  recruited  to  four  hundred  and  eighty  thousand 
men  ;  and  the  fleets  of  England  were  such  as  he  could  not  pro- 
pose to  match  within  the  space  of  ten  years  at  least.  United, 
the  two  countries  might  govern  the  world,  would  they  but  under- 
stand each  other.  Had  he  found  the  least  cordiality  on  the  part 
of  England,  she  should  have  had  indemnities  assigned  her  upon 
the  Continent,  treaties  of  commerce,  all  that  she  could  ask  or 
desire.  But  he  confessed  that  his  irritation  increased  daily, 
"since  every  gale  that  blew  from  England  brought  nothing  but 
enmity  and  hatred  against  him."  In  the  final  result,  he  demanded 
the  instant  fulfilment  of  the  treaty  of  Amiens,  and  the  suppression 
of  the  abuse  in  the  English  newspapers.  "W  ar  was  the  alterna- 
tive. To  an  allusion  by  Lord  Whitworth  to  the  changes  in  Pied- 
mont and  Switzerland  as  obstacles  to  peace,  Buonaparte  replied 
that  those  were  trifles  which  must  have  been  foreseen  while  the 
treaty  was  pending,  and  it  was  a  mere  pretext  to  recur  to  them 
now.  Besides,  the  delivering  up  of  Malta  to  the  English  would 
not  remedy  them.  They  parted  with  mutual  civilitv  ;  and  Lord 
Whitworth  expressed  himself  pcrfectlv  satisfied  with  his  audience, 
but  soon  after  sent  over  a  long  account  of  it  to  the  Ministers, 
tending  to  inflame  the  quarrel  and  to  remove  the  hope  of  an  ad- 
justment of  differences  to  a  greater  distance.  In  a  word,  it  was 
obvious  that  the  First  Consul  was  benl  upon  peace;  and  the  more 
anxious  he  was  fur  it,  the  more'  the  English  Cabinet  grew  alarmed 
and  di  termined  to  break  it  oil".  Thev  hated  the  man  ;  and  it  was 
otilv  in  a  war  that  thev  could  hope  ;  >  destroy  him  and  the  Re- 
public. The  duplicity  and  misrepresentation  of  which  Buona- 
parte was  the  object  on  this  occasion,  made  him  determine  in 
fumre  to  recur  to  the  common  forms  of  diplomacy  and  communi- 
cate his  sentiments  through  his   Ministers,  to  whom   he  could  hi 


RUPTURE   OF   THE  PEACE   OF   AMIENS  241 

hat  case  appeal  as  evidence  in  his  justification.  The  former 
method  was,  however  more  suited  to  the  genius  of  the  man  and  to 
his  situation  as  the  head  of  a  free  state,  who  having  no  sentiments 
or  interests  but  those  of  the  community  to  express,  expressed 
them  openly,  manfully,  and  with  the  degree  of  energy  and  warmth 
they  infused  into  his  breast ;  and  that  by  a  republican  boldness  and 
simplicity  presented  a  marked  contrast  to  those  state-puppets,  who 
being  actuated  only  by  their  pride  and  passions  while  they  profess 
to  aim  at  the  public  good,  should  always  explain  themselves  by 
proxy,  that  there  may  be  no  clue  to  their  real  feelings  and  inten- 
tions, and  as  little  connection  between  their  lips  and  the  sentiments 
of  their  hearts,  as  there  is  between  their  interests  and  those  of  the 
people. 

On  the  8th  of  March,  a  speech  from  the  Throne  recommended 
to  the  British  Parliament  the  seconding  the  Government  in  com- 
pleting all  the  measures  of  defence  which  circumstances  might 
appear  to  render  necessary  for  the  honor  of  the  Crown  and  the 
essential  interests  of  the  People.  These  precautions  were  to  be 
grounded  on  considerable  preparations  said  to  be  making  in  the 
ports  of  France  and  Holland,  and  on  differences  of  a  high  impor- 
tance which  existed  between  his  Majesty  and  the  French  Gov- 
ernment. Buonaparte  had  been  just  reading  this  notable  mes- 
sage in  a  dispatch  which  he  had  received  from  London,  when  he 
had  to  enter  the  drawing-room  at  the  Thuilleries  where  the  For- 
eign Ambassadors  were  collected,  and  stopping  short  before  the 
English  Ambassador,  he  put  the  following  hurried  questions  to 
him  in  a  tone  of  surprise  and  impatience  : — "  What  does  your 
Cabinet  mean  ?  What  is  the  motive  for  raising  these  rumors  of 
armaments  in  our  harbors?  How  is  it  possible  to  impose  in  this 
manner  on  the  credulity  of  the  nation,  or  to  be  so  ignorant  of  our 
real  intentions?  If  the  actual  state  of  things  be  known,  it  must  be 
evident  to  all  that  there  are  only  two  armaments  lilting  out  for  St. 
Domingo  ;  that  this  island  engrosses  all  our  disposable  means.  \Y  by 
then  these  complaints  ?     Can  peace  be  already  considered  as  a  bur- 

V> 


00(1 


den  to  be  shaken  off?  Is  Europe  to  be  again  deluged  with  hi 
He  then  addressed  Count  Marcoff  and  the  Chevalier  A/.ara — "  The 
English  wish  for  war  ;  but  if  they  draw  the  sword  first,  1  will  be 
the  last  to  return  it  to  the  scabbard.  They  do  not  respect  treaties, 
VOL.  II.  12  21 


2*2  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

which  henceforth  we  must  cover  with  black  crape."  He  then  agu«i 
turned  to  Lord  Whitworth  :  "  To  what  purpose  is  this  pretended 
alarm  ?  Against  whom  do  you  take  these  measures  of  precaution  ? 
I  have  not  a  single  ship  of  the  line  in  any  port  in  France.  But  if 
you  arm,  I  will  arm  too  ;  if  you  fight,  I  will  fight.  You  may  de- 
stroy France,  but  you  cannot  intimidate  her.'"'  Lord  Whitworth 
bowed  and  made  no  reply.  The  First  Consul  left  that  part  oft  e 
saloon,  and,  without  going  the  usual  round,  retired  soon  after. 
The  rest  of  the  company  followed,  except  the  English  and  Russian 
Ambassadors,  who  withdrew  tc  the  recess  of  a  window,  and  were 
seen  conversing  together  long  after.  Such  is  the  amount  of  a 
scene  in  which  Buonaparte's  temper  and  language  were  repre- 
sented to  have  risen  to  such  a  height,  that  Lord  Whitworth  every 
moment  expected  he  would  strike  him.  and  was  prepared  to  have 
run  his  sword  through  his  body  if  lie  had  !  And  the  English  na- 
tion  gloried  tor  many  a  year  in  the  notion  of  the  rage  into  which 
Buonaparte  was  thrown  by  our  not  making  peace  with  him,  and 
of  the  signal  revenge  which  our  Ambassador  would  have  taken 
on  the  spot,  had  he  not  contained  himself  within  certain  limits  ! 
To  fables  and  caricatures  of  this  kind  did  the  Tory  party  think 
it  necessarv  to  resort  to  rouse  the  passions  and  prejudices  of  the 
multitude  to  a  pitch  of  madness.  The  principles  of  the  Revo- 
lution in  themselves  wearing  a  seductive  and  popular  aspect,  the 
onlv  chance  its  opponents  had  was  to  divert  attention  from  them, 
bv  vilifying  the  persons  of  tho.se  who  defended  them,  and  holding 
them  up  alternately  a-  bjects  of  terror  and  ridicule.  Thev  did 
every  thing  to  provoke  Buonaparte  beyond  the  bounds  of  patience, 
and  then  made  a  merit  of  having  succeeded,  representing  it  as  a 
new  ground  of  war  :  as  if  he  who  had  n  ccivi  d,  n  it  those  who 
had  oil*  red  the  insults  and  provoeafi  ins.  was  the  airirressor.  and 
he  was  a  man  of  that  violence  and  irritability  of  temper,  that  no 
peace  could  be  kept  with  him.  livfi'v  thing  being  thus  referred 
t  i  p  rsonal  prejudice  and  rancor,  the  fairest  oilers  were  treated  as 
in.-idious,  the  plainest  proofs  were  answered  bv  a  volley  of  abuse, 
or  bv  a  sneer  of  contempt.  Buonaparte,  bv  his  flaws  and  starts 
of  temper,  showed  that  he  was  M  of  the  pi  opde,  and  resp  m- 

Siible  to  them  fur  the  issue  of  affairs.  lie  was  naturally  mortified 
at  the  vain   professions  of  peace    by  which  he  had  been  amused, 


RUPTURE   OF   THE   PEACE   OF   AMIENS.  243 

and  disgusted  at  the  barefaced  imposture  by  whicn  they  were 
broken  oil*.  He  was  not  one  of  that  favored  race  of  mortals  who 
can  do  no  wrong  ;  who  are  invulnerable  to  opinion,  accountable 
to  none  but  themselves,  and  who  preserve  the  same  equanim- 
ity because  they  receive  the  same  obedience  and  outward  homage 
whether  they  ruin  or  save — alike  indifferent  to  the  execration  or 
the  gratitude  of  their  country.  Persecution  drives  men  beside 
themselves  ;  the  withholding  of  the  best-founded  claims  makes 
them  set  up  unreasonable  ones.  We  cannot  be  surprised,  if  Buo- 
naparte, to  shield  himself  in  some  degree  from  the  annoyance  of 
vulgar  ribaldry  and  the  supercilious  airs  of  power,  seriously  be- 
thought himself  of  borrowing  an  armor  of  proof,  which  the  Pope 
helped  to  buckle  on  for  him,  and  of  binding  the  laurel-wreath  of 
victory  (as  it  was  not  to  be  that  of  peace  also)  with  the  golden 
circlet  of  an  imperial  crown. 

The  First  Consul  did  nut,  however,  all  at  once  throw  away 
the  hope  of  an  accommodation,  as  the  following  speech  in  the 
Council  of  State  just  after  will  testify: — "It  is  asked  if  the 
present  political  juncture  will  not  be  unfavorable  to  the  establish 
ment  of  a  national  bank.  The  Romans,  when  besieged,  sent  an 
army  into  Africa.  If  we  should  have  war,  which  is  not  to  be 
presumed,  it  would  diminish  the  imposts  by  thirty  millions.  We 
should  live  in  Europe,  in  Hanover.  Italy  would  furnish  us  with 
fortv  millions,  instead  of  twenty  ;  Holland  with  thirty  millions, 
instead  of  nothing,  which  it  actually  contributes.  I  told  the  En- 
glish Ambassador,  'You  may  indeed  kill  Frenchmen,  but  not  in- 
timidate them.5  I  am  unable  to  conceive  the  motives  of  the 
King's  message.  There  arc  two  points  :  first,  the  armaments  ; 
this  reduces  itself  to  the  expedition  to  Louisiana,  two  thousand 
men  detained  by  the  frost,  and  three  avisos  at  Dunkirk,  which  set 
sail  for  St.  Domingo  the  very  day  of  the  message.  The  English 
Ministers  cannot  pretend  ignorance  of  that  ;  it  is  sufficiently  pub- 
lic. Otherwise,  if  they  had  demanded  explanations,  they  might 
have  been  made  easy  on  that  head.  Secondly,  there  are  the  dis- 
cussions on  the  treats.  But  1  am  not  aware  of  any  such;  there 
are  none.  Do  they  mean  to  allude  to  Malta,  or  to  keep  it?  Uuf 
treaties  must  be  executed,  and  France  cannot  recede  on  that  point 
without  r.  ceding  on  all   the  rest.      It  would  be  contrary  to  honor. 


244  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


A  nation  ought  never  to  do  any  tiling  contrary  to  its  honor;   for 

in  this  case  it  would  be  the  lowest  of  all  ;  it  were  better  to  per- 
ish. If  we  gave  up  this  point,  they  would  next  demand  to  have 
a  commissary  at  Dunkirk.  These"  times  are  past  ;  we  are  no 
longer  what  we  were.  We  will  not  become  the  vassals  of  Eng- 
land. They  well-nigh  threatened  me  with  war  eight  or  nine 
Months  ago,  if  I  did  not  conclude  a  treaty  of  commerce.  1  re- 
filled :  '  All  in  good  time  ;  1  will  not  have  a  treaty  of  commerce  ; 
1  wish  to  establish  a  tariff.,  which  will  suit  us  best.'  Neverthe- 
less, it  was  in  this  manner  that  they  forced  a  treaty  upon  M.  de 
Vergennes  ;  though  he  knew  well  enough  that  it  was  injurious. 
If  they  mean  to  speak  of  Malta  and  intend  to  keep  it,  war  is  in- 
evitable, though  Malta  belongs  to  the  sea,  and  it  was  to  receive  a 
garrison  of  Neapolitans,  who  are  well  known  not  to  be  very  fa- 
vorable to  us:  but  then  our  honor!  The  English  are  it)  the 
habit  of  disturbing  the  Continent,  and  from  the  little  resistance 
thev  in  general  meet  with,  are  exceedingly  sensible  to  it  ;  so 
much  the  worse  fir  them  !  Would  it  not  seem  tiiat  we  have  it  in 
view  to  invade  England?  We  ask  nothing  from  her;  all  that 
we  require  is  the  execution  of  treaties.  If  the  message  has  a 
reference  to  the  exterior,  it  can  only  be  to  Malta.  If  it  has  to  do 
with  domestic  affairs,  its  object  may  be  to  put  on  board  their  ves- 
sels five  or  six  thousand  individuals,  who  give  them  cause  of  un- 
easiness, in  consequence  of  what  has  taken  place  at  the  funeral 
of  Colonel  Despard,  or  for  some  other  end  of  which  I  am  igno- 
rant, and  am  at  a  loss  to  divine.  For  in  general,  when  the  En- 
glish are  resolved  on  war,  thev  begin  by  issuing  secret  orders, 
five  or  six  months  beforehand,  to  capture  all  merchant-vessels; 
and  lliev  give  notice  to  the  Exchange.  On  the  contrarv,  this 
message  has  fallen  as  if  from  the  clouds  ;  they  knew  nothing  of 
it  the  evening  before.  The  King  was  following  the  chase  ;  the 
Exchange  was  not  apprised  of  it.  S  i  that  it  has  had  an  effect 
which  was  never  before  known  in  England;  the  funds  have 
fallen  from  12  to  62.  It  is,  then,  an  inexplicable  caprice,  and  all 
for  nothing.  For  what  says  the  message  ]  It  calls  for  neither 
men  nor  money  :  it  only  says  that  it  hopes  the  Commons  will 
show  themselves  if  we  inviulc ■Kii«lun(L  and  the  Commons  reply, 
that  thev  will.      Behold   a   niiuhtv    discoverv  !      Besides,    all    this 


RUPTURE   OF   THE   PEAfiE   OF   AMIENS.  245 


does  more  harm  to  England  than  to  us,  for  she  exists  only  by  her 
credit.  All  her  merchantmen  have  orders  not  to  stir.  War 
would  oblige  her  to  incur  e.xpences,  and  make  her  sustain  losses 
forty  times  greater  than  those  which  we  should  have  to  suffer 
It  would  be  without  object." 

The  whole  proceeding,  of  which  Buonaparte  makes  a  political 
mystery,  is  an  obvious  moral  truism.  The  English  Cabinet  had 
determined  all  along  never  to  conclude  peace,  and  it  could  no 
longer  put  it  off  without  an  abrupt  declaration  of  war.  The  ex- 
cesses of  the  French  Revolution  had  shocked  and  terrified  the 
upper  classes  ;  the  glory  and  the  growing  prosperity  of  the  Re- 
public  under  its  new  leader,  galled  their  pride  still  more.  No 
sacrifices,  no  risks,  no  breach  of  faith  was  too  great  to  avoid  set- 
ting the  seal  to  a  system  which  affronted  and  gave  the  lie  to  all 
their  boasted  pretensions  and  maxims.  But  in  order  to  prevent 
the  scandal  of  a  sudden  rupture  (the  true  reasons  of  which  would 
not  bear  disclosure.)  it  was  brought  forward  as  if  quite  unawares, 
and  from  a  momentary  panic  at  imaginary  armaments  in  the 
ports  of  France.  The  fears  and  anger  of  the  country  being  thus 
exeited  by  an  object  which  had  no  existence,  might  then  be  easily 
directed  to  any  object  the  Government  pleased.  It  would  be  a 
pitv  that  such  a  stock  of  patriotism  and  loyalty  should  be  collect- 
ed by  the  most  approved  conduit  (the  King's  speech,)  and  in  the 
grand  reservoir  of  public  opinion  (the  breast  of  the  Commons  of 
Great  Britain)  in  vain.  Our  passions  would  not  be  the  less  in- 
flamed by  finding  that  we  had  been  duped  into  them.  The  blow 
once  struck,  we  should  not  stop  to  inquire  into  the  grounds  of  the 
quarrel,  but  be  readv  to  commit  ourselves  to  destruction  in  order 
to  avoid  it.  Such  is  the  web  of  which  loyalty  and  patriotism  are 
vulgarly  composed  ;  and  in  this  manner  was  the  war  of  1803 
got  up  by  a  paltrv  stratagem,  and  bv  disseminating  a  false  alarm 
of  an  invasion  which  only  war  could  bring  about. 

The  reports  of  war  soon  gained  ground,  and  the  First  Consul 
spoke  out  more  plainly  on  the  subject.  Of  the  tone  and  spirit  in 
which  he  met  these  first  hostile  demonstrations  on  the  part  of 
Great  Britain,  the  following  observations  delivered  at  an  audience 
(the  11th  Floreal,)  convey  a  remarkable  specimen  : — "  Since  the 
English  (he  said,  after  the  Foreign  Ambassadors  were  gone)  wish 


246  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 


to  force  us  to  leap  the  ditch,  we  will  leap  it.  They  may  take 
some  of  our  frigates  or  our  colonies  ;  but  1  will  carry  terror  into 
the  streets  of  London,  and  I  give  them  warning,  that  they  will 
bewail  the  end  of  this  war  with  tears  of  blood.  The  Ministers 
have  made  the  King  of  England  tell  a  lie  in  the  face  of  Europe. 
There  were  no  armaments  going  on  in  France;  there  has  been 
no  negociation.  They  have  not  transmitted  to  me  a  single  note  : 
Lord  VVbitworth  could  not  help  acknowledging  it.  And  yet  it  is 
by  the  aid  of  such  vile  insinuations,  that  a  Government  seeks  to 
excite  the  passions.  Fur  the  last  two  months  I  have  endured  all 
sorts  of  insults  from  the  English  Government.  I  have  let  them 
fill  up  the  measure  of  their  offences  ;  they  have  construed  that 
into  feebleness,  and  have  redoubled  their  presumption  to  the  point 
of  making  their  Ambassador  say:  Do  so  and  so,  or  I  shall  de- 
part in  St-vcn  days.  Is  it  thus  that  they  address  a  great  nation  ? 
He  was  told  to  write,  and  that  his  notes  would  be  laid  before  the 
eyes  of  Government.  No,  was  the  reply,  J  hare  orders  to  com- 
municate, only  verbally.  Is  not  this  an  unheard  of  form  of  ne- 
gotiating ?  Does  it  not  show  a  marked  determination  to  shuffle, 
equivocate,  play  at  fast  and  loose  as  they  please,  and  leave  no 
proof  against  themselves  ?  But  if  they  falsify  facts,  what  faith 
can  be  placed  in  their  sincerity  in  other  respects?  They  are  de- 
ceived if  they  think  fo  dictate  laws  to  forty  millions  of  people. 
They  have  been  led  to  believe  that  I  dreaded  war,  lest  it  should 
shake  my  authority.  I  will  raise  two  millions  of  men,  if  it  be 
necessary.  The  result  of  the  first  war  has  been  to  aggrandize 
France  by  the  addition  of  Belgium  and  Piedmont.  The  result 
of  this  will  be  to  consolidate  our  federative  system  still  more 
firmly.  The  bond  of  union  between  two  great  nations  can  be  no 
other  than  justice  and  the  observation  of  treaties.  The  one  to- 
wards which  they  are  violated,  cannot,  oujjht  not  to  suffer  it  tin- 
tier  pain  of  degradation.  Let  her  but  once  give  way.  and  she  is 
lost.  It  would  be  better  for  the  French  people  to  bend  to  the 
yoke,  and  erect  the  throne  of  the  King  of  England  in  Paris, 
than  to  submit  to  the  caprices  and  arbitrary  pretensions  of  her 
Government.  One  day  they  will  demand  the  salute  from  our 
vessels;  another  they  will  forbid  our  navigators  to  pass  beyond 
such   a  latitude.      Already  even    they  observe  with    jealousy  that 


RUPTURE   OF   THE   PEACE    OF   AMIENS.  24? 

we  were  clearing  out  our  harbors,  and  re-establishing  our  mu- 
rine. They  complain  of  it  ;  they  demand  guarantees.  A  short 
while  ago  the  Vice-Admiral  Lesseigues  touched  at  Malta  ;  he 
had  two  ships  with  him  ;  he  found  fifteen  English  ones  there. 
They  wanted  him  to  fire  a  salute  ;  Lesseigues  refused  :  some 
words  passed.  If  he  had  yielded,  I  would  have  had  him  carried 
in  procession  on  an  ass;  which  is  a  mode  of  punishment  more 
ignominious  than  the  guillotine.  I  flatter  myself  that  when  our 
conduct  shall  be  made  known,  there  is  not  a  corner  of  Europe  m 
which  it  will  not  meet  with  approbation.  When  England  con- 
sented to  a  peace,  she  thought  that  we  should  tear  one  another  to 
pieces  in  the  interior,  that  the  Generals  would  give  France 
trouble.  The  English  have  done  all  they  could  ;  but  their  in- 
trigues of  every  kind  have  been  in  vain.  Every  one  has  occu- 
pied himself  only  in  repairing  his  losses.  A  little  sooner,  a  little 
later,  we  must  have  had  war.  It  is  best  to  have  it  at  once,  be- 
fore  our  maritime  commerce  is  restored." 

There  were  some  Members  of  the  Senate  present  on  this  occa- 
sion; amongst  others,  Laplace  and  Bougainville,  who  talked  of 
the  facility  of  a  descent  upon  England.  All  is  easy  to  French 
imagination  :  it  costs  only  words.  After  some  vain  altercations 
and  atl'ected  concessions,  which  came  to  nothing,  and  were  meant 
to  come  to  nothing.  Lord  Whitworth  took  his  departure.  On 
occasion  of  this  circumstance  being  communicated  to  the  Legisla- 
tive Body,  the  orator  Fontaine  made  a  speech,  not  like  Buona- 
parte,  laying  down  facts  one  by  one,  like  the  pieces  of  a  mosaic- 
pavement,  clear  at  once  and  solid,  but  running  into  extravagant 
assumptions  and  false  sentiment.  "  If  the'  English."'  he  said, 
'•  should  dare  to  combat  us.  be  it  so!  France  is  readv  to  cover 
herself  once  more  with  those  arms  which  have  conquered  Europe. 
It  is  not  France  that  will  declare  war  ;  but  she  will  accept  the 
nge  without  fear,  and  will  know  how  to  maintain  it  with 
energy.  Our  country  is  become  anew  the  centre  of  civilized 
Europe.  England  can  no  longer  say  that  she  is  defending  the 
indispensable  principles  of  society,  menaced  to  its  foundations:  it 
is  we  who  may  hold  this  language,  if  war  is  rekindled  :  it  is  we 
who  shall  then  have  to  avenge  the  rights  of  nations  and  the  cause 
of  humanity,  in   repelling  the  unjust  attack  of  a  Government  thai 


24S  LIFE   OF   XAPOLEOX. 


negociates  to  deceive,  that  asks  for  peace  to  prepare  for  war,  and 
that  sinus  treaties  only  to  break  them.  It'  the  signal  is  once 
given,  France  will  rally  by  an  unanimous  movement  round  the 
hero  she  admires.  All  the  parties  whom  he  keeps  in  order  near 
him  will  only  dispute  who  shall  manifest  most  zeal  and  courage. 
All  fee!  the  want  of  his  genius,  and  acknowledge  that  he  alone  can 
sustain  the  weight  and  grandeur  of  our  new  destinies.  The 
exiles  newly  recalled  to  their  country  will  be  foremost  to  defend 
it,'"'  6cc.  We  have  here  some  of  the  first  flashy  indications  of 
that  vain-glorious  and  overweening  spirit,  which,  turning  the 
grand  question  into  a  national  quarrel,  and  affecting  obliquely  to 
disclaim  the  principles  of  freedom  out  of  which  it  arose  and 
which  sanctified  it,  substituted  the  effervescence  of  French  con- 
ceit for  the  old  leaven  of  Jacobinism,  looked  round  with  gaping 
credulity  for  universal  admiration,  when  it  could  only  take  a 
stern  defensive  attitude  and  submit  with  firm  resignation  to  an 
honorable  stigma  ;  made  so  many  enemies,  lost  so  many  friends, 
and  while  it  set  no  bounds  to  the  arrogance  of  its  pretensions, 
struck  at  the  principle  which  had  hitherto  supported  them,  and 
to  which  they  must  return  to  make  a  fatal  stand. 

Great  Britain  declared  war  against  France  the  15th  of  -May, 
lr03.  Peri  id  ever  fatal  and  mem  irable — the  commencement  of 
another  Iliad  of  woes  not  to  be  forgotten  while  the  world  shall 
hist  !  The  former  war  had  failed,  and  the  object  of  this  was  to 
make  another  desperate  effort  to  put  down,  bv  force  of  arms  and 
at  every  risk,  the  example  of  a  revolution  which  had  overturned 
a  hateful  hut  long-established  tvrannv,  anil  had  hitherto  been 
successful  river  everv  attempt  to  crush  it  bv  externa!  or  internal 
means.  The  other  causes  assigned  at  different  periods  and  ac- 
cording to  the  emergency  were  mere  masks  t  -  c  ver  this,  which 
was  the  true,  the  constant,  and  sole-moving  one  in  all  circum- 
stances and  in  ail  fortunes  :  thr  u:  h  li  d  re]  rt  and  evil  n  ]  ;'!. 
m  victorv  or  defeat,  in  the  abyss  of  despair  or  the  plenitude'  of 
sue;.'--,  in  every  stavro  an  :  phasis  of  its  commencement,  progress, 
or  d  uble  termination.  'Fheiv  mi^hl  have  been  a  doubt  on  this 
subject  atone  period  (though  none  to  a  sober  and  dispassionate 
judgment:)    but    th   -      '••  \     thoruise    at  this    time    of  day, 

an  1   after  the  catastrophe,  are  n  >t  to  be   believed.      Whether  that 


RUPTURE    OF    THE   PEACE    OF   AMIES S.  £49 

object  was  just  or  not,  is  a  different  question  ;  and  there  may  be 
two  opinions  upon  the  subject,  that  of  the  free  or  of  the  slave. 
Of  all  the  fictions  that  were  made  use  of  to  cloak  this  crying 
iniquity,  the  pleas  of  justice  and  humanity  were  the  most  falla- 
cious. No  very  great  ceremony  was  employed  on  the  present 
occasion,  but  rather  a  cavalier  and  peremptory  tone  was  en 
:ouraged.  Malta  was  a  merely  nominal  pretext.  The  encroach- 
ments of  France,  and  the  extension  of  its  influence  since  the  con- 
clusion of  the  treaty,  were  said  to  endanger  our  possessions  in 
India,  and  to  require  Malta  as  an  additional  security.  But  had 
not  we  extended  our  conquests  in  India  in  the  mean  time  ?  Or 
would  this  have  been  held  a  valid  plea,  if  the  French  had  broken 
oil*  the  treaty  on  that  ground  ?  But  we  ourselves  are  always 
exceptions  to  the  rules  we  impose  so  magisterially  on  others. 
Ju.-tice  is  not  an  attribute  of  the  sea;  conquests  on  the  Continent 
of  Asia  are  very  different  things  from  conquests  on  the  Continent 
of  Europe.  Morality  is  one  thing  between  the  tropics,  and  an- 
other nearer  to  the  pole,  and  so  on.  As  to  the  domineering  spirit 
and  ambitious  projects  ascribed  to  France,  it  is  true  she  had  come 
off  victor  in  the  late  contest,  which  was  a  great  crime,  no  doubt, 
and  an  outrage  on  all  proper  decorum.  In  war,  however,  one 
of  the  two  parties  must  have  the  best  of  it  ;  and  it  is  not  usual 
for  the  conquering  party  to  give  up  its  advantages.  If  you  attack 
an  adversary,  and  he  strikes  you  down,  your  returning  to  the 
charge  in  despair  or  revenge  does  not  prove  that  you  are  in  the 
right.  Bathed  malice  is  not  justice  ;  nor  does  it  become  so  by  a 
repetition  of  the  offence,  nor  by  any  quantity  of  mischief' it  inflicts 
on  itself  or  others.  The  federative  system  which  Buonaparte 
talked  of  strengthening  was  calculated  to  barricado  France 
against  the  successive  Coalitions  and  the  formidable  lines  of  cir- 
cumvallation  which  both  now  and  afterwards  the  Allied  Sover. 
ei_rns  (}vi'\v  around  it.  Lombardy  was  not  independent,  but  had 
been  wrested  by  France  from  its  unwilling  subjection  to  Austria 
Let  the  facts  speak,  whose  sway  was  mildest  or  best.  If  legiti 
mate  Princes  expect,  after  losing  the  game  of  war,  to  receive 
back  the  stakes,  they  do  not  practise  the  precepts  which  they 
preach.  They  would  play  long  enough  at  the  game  on  these 
terms.      As  to  Buonaparte's  making    himself  master  of  Switzc 

12*   " 


250  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

land,  it  was  not  defacing  the  shrine  of  liberty,  but  stopping  up  a 
door  in  a  wall,  through  which  a  hireling  assassin  stole  to  destroy 
it.  Buonaparte  did  not  shed  the  blood  of  the  Swiss,  but  prevented 
them  from  shedding  it  themselves  in  a  useless  quarrel.  William 
Tell  could  not  come  to  life  again  to  defend  the  neutrality  of  his 
country  j  or  if  he  had,  would  hardly  have  sided  with  its  old  op- 
pressors (though  there  is  no  saying.)  Buonaparte  left  the  Swiss 
in  possession  of  their  ancient  laws  and  franchises;  and  only 
claimed  so  much  influence  over  them  or  management  in  their 
e  meerns,  as  to  prevent  their  territory  from  becoming  the  rendez- 
vous of  foreign  cabals  and  conspiracies  against  the  French 
Republic,  or  a  thoroughfare  for  the  hordes  of  slaves  and  barba- 
rians to  march  to  their  long-promised  prey.  The  old  Republic 
was  jealous  of  the  new  one;  and  the  country-places  from  sim- 
plicitv  and  custom,  the  towns  from  a  mixture  of  aristocratic  pride 
were  averse  to  change.  The  plan  which  Buonaparte  chalked 
out  for  them  was.  for  the  most  part,  a  model  of  moderation  and  good 
sense.  He  wished  t  i  preserve  the  right  uf  voting  for  their  rep  re- 
ives in  the  democratic  Cantons  and  pastoral  districts;  con- 
tinued the  grabcau  or  right  of  calling  their  Magistrates  to  account 
i  verv  two  vears  ;  extended  the  privilege  of  exercising  the  funo- 
ti  »ns  of  G  iverntnent  to  a  gn  ater  number  of  families  in  the 
aristocratic  Cantons;  kept  the  independence  of  the  Cantons  dis- 
tinct ;  told  tii"  patriot  Reding  that  the  sun  would  return  from  the 
WV.-t  t  i  the  Ivisl  before  the  Valais  w  mid  return  under  the  v  ike 
oligarchy  of  Berne,  and  kept  the  Valtelinc  out  of  the 
clutches  of  the  Grisons.  Still  it  was  treading  on  ticklish  and 
.  ground.  ll  ga\  e  a  ban  lie  to  the  p  iets  and  jurists 
human  tin  lersi  indiiur.  the  e  injunc- 
ti  01  of  which  is  ominous.  lie  did  u  >t  enough  regard  the  real 
-ei'-!;_eii  and  th>'  in-  >ch  -   ol   Kngland.       lie  said  if  the  Kng- 

lid    Cabinet     had    sh  >\\  n   •'.      1   n-t    di>p   -it;  in    to    interf  re.    he 
.    :    hive    made    d'.-   .,'   L>i/i'lt/ur/i'iii.      In   the  same   spirit    he 
e   cri'.'i  d  liial  •■  1  d ■  i _  i . i : ;  1  c      ,!d  Hot    e    ..o  ud  single. hand  d  against 
P.-rh  ips    not.    it'    K  i    been  lashed    to 

'..  ■  C      '    i'  :.'  :    but   as  this  was  :,    '      '  e  e.    t  <  :;oooi.   [  do  not    see 
Inat  we  w  re  t  i  g  i  I  i  w  ir  :    "  an  idle  uat  ioual  vaunt. 

Jo   ..rder  to  put    lurselv..-.-  to  judg'  impartially  in 


RUPTURE   OF   THE  PEACE   OF   AMIENS.  25i 

this  case,  and  to  see  on  which  side  the  impediments  to  maintaining 
the  relations  of  peace  and  amity  lay,  let  us  for  a  moment  reverse  the 
picture,  and  turn  the  tables  the  other  way.  Let  us  suppose  that 
from  the  first  cessation  of  hostilities  a  system  of  unqualified  abuse 
and  unsparing  ribaldry  had  commenced  on  the  other  side  of  the 
water  against  the  English  nation  and  government ;  that  his  Majesty 
King  George  III.  had  been  daily  accused  of  the  most  shocking 
public  and  private  vices,  and  his  name  unblushingly  coupled  with 
epithets  that  cannot  be  repeated  ;  that  the  females  of  the  Royal 
Family  had  been  held  up  to  opprobrium  and  contempt,  as  engaged 
in  the  grossest  and  most  scandalous  intrigues  ;  that  on  application 
being  made  to  put  a  stop  to  the  evil,  the  only  redress  that  could 
be  obtained  was  an  appeal  to  a  Court  of  Justice,  where  all  the 
charges  were  insisted  on  with  double  relish  and  acrimony,  amidst 
a  shout  of  exultation  and  jubilee  from  the  whole  venal  press;  let 
us  suppose  that  the  ruling  Monarch  of  this  country  had  been, 
without  the  intermission  of  a  day,  taunted  with  the  mention  of  his 
constitutional  malady,  and  with  his  being  the  descendant  of  a 
petty  German  Elector  :  let  us  suppose  the  surviving  branches  of 
the  Stuart  family  to  be  maintained  in  France  at  the  public  ex- 
pense, and  their  pretensions  to  the  throne  of  England  sometimes 
broadly  insinuated,  never  clearly  disavowed,  but  kept  in  a  doubt- 
ful state,  to  be  brought  forward  at  a  moment's  warning  ;  that 
bands  of  organized  rebels  and  assassins,  in  the  pay  of  these 
Princes,  hovered  constantly  on  the  English  coast  to  excite  insur- 
rection, and  glided  even  into  the  Royal  palaces  ;  that  they  had 
several  times  attempted  the  life  of  the  King,  but  that  they  were 
still  in  the  same  favor  and  kept  up  a  clandestine  intercourse  with 
the  Republican  Government  ;  let  us  suppose  that,  remonstrances 
were  made  against  these  proceedings,  which  were  received  with 
official  coldness  and  contempt  ;  but  let  us  suppose  it  to  have  been 
considered  as  a  mark  of  want  of  zeal  and  devotion  to  the  person 
and  government  of  the  First  Consul  for  any  Frenchman  to  visit 
England,  or  to  be  introduced  at  the  English  Court  ;  let  us  sup- 
pose every  advance  towards  confidence  or  cordiality  to  be  care- 
fully shunned,  every  handle  for  recrimination  or  distrust  to  be 
eagerly  seized  on  ;  that,  the  articles  of  the  pretended  treaty  of 
peace  were   executed  slowly,  one  by  one  ;   that  the  reluctance   to 


852  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


conclude  it  evidently  increased  in  proportion  to  the  delays  that 
had  taken  place  ;  that  at  last,  when  the  farce  could  he  kept  up 
no  longer,  it  was  suddenly  put  an  ena  to  by  a  flat  refusal  to  exe- 
cute one  of  the  stipulations,  and  by  forged  rumors  of  preparations 
in  the  ports  of  England  to  invade  France — who  would  have 
asked  in  that  case  on  which  side  the  bar  to  peace  lay,  or  which 
Government  harbored  a  runted  and  rancorous  desire  for  the  re- 
newal of  the  war  ?  But  it  may  be  said  that  there  was  a  differ- 
ence between  Napoleon  Buonaparte  and  George  III.  Yes,  it 
was  on  that  difference  that  the  whole  question  turned.  It  was 
the  sense  of  degradation,  and  of  the  compromise  of  the  kingly 
dignity  in  condescending  to  make  peace  on  a  friendly  and  equal 
footing  with  an  individual  who  had  risen  from  the  people,  and 
who  had  no  power  over  them  but  from  trie  services  he  had  ren- 
dered them,  that  produced  a  repugnance,  amounting  to  loath- 
ing, to  a  peace  with  the  Republic  (like  the  touch  of  the  lep- 
r  isv,  like  embracing  an  infectious  body),  thai  plunged  us  into 
all  the  hormrs  and  calamities  of  war,  and  brought  us  back  in 
the  end  to  the  arms  and  to  the  blessings  of  Legitimate  Govern- 
ment ! — Persons  who  are  fond  of  dwelling  on  the  work  of  retri- 
bution, might  perhaps  trace  its  finger  here.  The  Monarch  sur- 
vived the  ace  implishment  of  all  his  wishes,  but  without  knowing 
that  they  had  been  ace  .mplished.  To  those  who  long  aflei 
passed  that  wav,  at  whatever  hour  of  the  night,  a  light  shone 
from  one  of tthe  watch-towers  of  Windsor  Castle — it  was  from 
ti.i     <■     !!:.'•■■;      •'       l\  '.  ..  .  '    ':■■!.:     :'■■:':    ><:'  iva-  •:!.    '•  wi:b    duU- 

b!<'  d  irknr'ss  b  mndr:  of  body  and  mind  ;  nor  was  that  film  ever 
removed,  nor  those  eyes  or  that  understanding  rest  red.  to  fail 
the  sacred  triumph  of  Kir.irs  over  mankind  :  but  the  light 
streamed    and    streamed  iting    no    dawn   within)   for  lovm 

vears  tion    of    that    day    which    gladdened    the 

ts    of    Monarchs    and    of   menial    nations,    and   through  that 
.  I   ni^ht  of  slavery  which  succeeded — -the  work  of  a  single 
L>o  ;  st,  which  it  had  dearly  ae  :  h  d   in  darkness,  in  self-ob- 

livion, and  in  more  than  kinulv  solitude  ! 


PREPARATIONS   TO   INVADE   ENGLAND. 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

PREPARATIONS    TO    INVADE    ENGLAND. 

The  English,  previously  to  any  formal  declaration  of  war,  had 
seized  on  all  the  French  shipping  in  their  ports  ;  and  Buonaparte, 
provoked  beyond  measure  by  the  infraction  of  the  treaty,  and  by 
this  new  outrage,  made  severe  and  perhaps  unwarrantable  repris- 
als, by  detaining  all  the  English  residing  in  France  as  prisoners 
of  war.  Nothing  could  certainly  excuse  the  extremity  of  this 
mode  of  retaliation,  both  on  account  of  the  extent  of  the  injury 
and  the  description  of  persons  on  whom  it  chiefly  fell,  but  that  it 
might  serve  as  a  lesson  to  a  people  who  preached  lofty  maxims 
of  morality  to  others  and  thought  their  own  will  a  sufficient  law 
to  themselves,  that  justice  and  courtesy  are  reciprocal  among  na- 
tions, and  that  if  one  of  them  chooses  to  indulge  its  enmity  with- 
out cause  and  without  bounds,  it  at  least  cannot  do  so  with 
impunity.  He  never  expressed  any  regret  on  this  subject,  but 
rather  his  concern  that  he  had  nut  made  the  regulations  more  rig- 
orous, in  revenue  fur  our  having  degraded  the  French  prisoners 
of  war  by  sending  them  on  board  the  hulks.  We  had  met  with 
our  match  fur  once  ;  and  were  like  spoiled  children,  who  hail  cut 
their  fingers  in  playing  with  edged  tools.  Buonaparte's  spirit 
and  firmness  were  often  carried  into  obstinacy  ;  or  it  would  have 
been  more  to  his  credit  if  he  had  relaxed  from  this  arbitrary  de- 
termination after  the  first  ebullition  of  impatience  and  resentment 
was  over ;  and  probably  he  would  have  dune  so,  but  for  fresh  and 
aggravated  provocations.  Repeated  landings  of  Chouans  and 
brigands  on  tin-  French  coast  might  not  tend  to  improv* 
per.  or  to  make  him  sensible  of  what  was  due  to  the  generosity 
and  magnanimity  of  the  English  character,  fife  indeed  after- 
wards otlered  to  compromise  the  matter,  by  including  tiie  detenus 
in  an  exchange  of  prisoners;   but  the  English  Government  stoud 


254  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON 

out  upon  a  political  punctilio,  disregarding-  the  prolonged  distresses 
of  their  countrymen  over  which  they  affected  to  make  such  pathetic 
lamentations,  hut  which  they  would  not  go  an  inch  out  of  their 
way,  or  abate  a  jot  of  their  sullen- scorn  and  defiance  to  alleviate. 
Why  then  should  Buonaparte  ?  A  few  exceptions  were  occa- 
sionally made  in  favor  of  literary  and  scientific  men,  or  those 
who  were  considered  as  something  more  than  mere  Englishmen. 
The  rest  were  condemned  to  linger  out  a  long  and  painful  cap- 
tivity, which  was  equally  without  dignity  or  even  the  sting  of  dis- 
grace, and  as  hopeless  in  the  prospect  of  its  termination  as  it  was 
unaccountable  in  its  commencement.  It  is  not  too  much  to  con- 
jecture that  the  Tory  Ministry  felt  no  very  acute  sympathy,  nor 
took  a  very  active  interest  in  their  sufferings.  They  had  been 
rightly  served,  and  had  been  caught  in  the  trap  thai  had  been 
prepared  for  them  by  their  idle  curiosity  and  ridiculous  Gallo- 
mania /*  Their  harsh  treatment  affixed  an  odium  on  the  French 
government  and  nation  ;  and  it  was  of  little  consequence  by  what 
means  the  popular  mind  on  this  side  the  channel  was  gangrened 
and  inflamed.  It  was  immaterial  what  ingredients  were  thrown 
into  the  boiling  cauldron  of  national  hate,  or  employed  to  make 
the  charm  of  loyalty  ''  thick  and  slab.'"'  Whatever  swelled  the 
war-whoop  or  cut  off  the  chance  of  reconciliation,  pleased.  The 
seizure  of  Hanover  (as  belonging  to  the  King  of  England,  though 
at  peace  with  France)  was  in  the  same  point  of  view  regarded  as 
no  mTpropTtious  omen;  and  the  occcupation  of  Tarentum  and 
other  sea-ports  of  the  kingdom  of  Naples  bv  the  French,  soon 
after  the  breaking  out  of  hostilities,  was  cited  as  a  proof  of  the 
justice  and  expediency  of  the  war,  and  as  disclosing  in  the  clear- 
est light  their  real  character  and  previous  intentions,  together 
wi'h  the  unprincipled  and  perfidious  policv  of  their  leader.  The 
latter  -'-■in-  at  least  to  have  been  determined  that  if  he  could  not 
have  peace,  he  would  make  other  countries  support  the  expenses 
<;f  war.      Buonaparte  was  all  along  treated  like  an  outlaw,  which 

*  "When  n  young  artist  at  this  prrioil  was  questioned  whether  he  had 
been  over  to  France,  and  he  answeivl  that  he  had  not.  nor  ha<l  he  any  wish 
to  go.  lie  rt'i-i'ived  a  smiling  reply  t'ruin  the  most  flattering  quarter,  "You 
•ire.  very  i  igbt,  you  are  very  ricrht.  Mr, ." 


PREPARATIONS   TO   INVADE   ENGLAND.  255 

he  could  not  help  :  if  lie  had  behaved  like  a  driveller  or  poltroon, 
this  would  have  been  his  own  fault. 

The  First  Consul  had  hoped  for  the  duration  of  peace.  He 
had  indeed  been  so  little  apprehensive  of  an  immediate  recur- 
rence to  a  state  of  hostility,  that  he  had  granted  an  unlimited 
leave  of  absence  to  every  French  soldier  who  had  applied  for  it; 
and  this  permission  had  been  taken  advantage  of  to  such  an  ex- 
tent that  the  greater  part  of  the  infantry  regiments  were  nearly 
reduced  to  skeletons.  They  would  even  have  been  wholly  dis- 
banded, had  it  not  been  from  regard  to  the  officers,  who  had  no 
means  of  subsistence  but  their  pay.  The  cavalry  in  like  man- 
ner had  been  suffered  to  dwindle  away  almost  to  nothing.  The 
parks  of  artillery  and  field-equipages  were  broken  up.  Every 
other  consideration  had  given  way  to  economy.  New  plans 
were  adopted  for  re-casting  the  artillery,  and  every  thing  had 
been  taken  to  the  large  foundries,  where  they  bad  already  begun 
to  break  up  the  cannon  for  the  purpose  of  throwing  them  into  the 
furnaces.  None  of  the  materials  of  war  were  at  hand  or  in  a 
state  of  forwardness.  Such  a  condition  was  not  calculated  to  ex- 
cite the  alarm  of  the  neighboring  States  ;  but  might  have  its 
share  in  reviving  their  hopes,  and  hastening  the  moment  of  an  at- 
tack.  As  the  First  Consul  had  reckoned  on  the  approaching  con- 
clusion of  peace  and  was  chiefly  occupied  in  promoting  internal 
improvements,  he  had  not  paid  much  attention  to  the  plans  pre- 
sented to  him  by  the  War  Minister  Berthier  and  by  General  Mar- 
mont ;  so  that  the  breaking  up  of  the  whole  field  of  artillery  was 
going  on  rapidly,  when  the  cry  of  war  suddenly  reached  his 
ears. 

lie  was  greatly  vexed  at  so  unpleasant  a  circumstance.  He 
sent  in  baste  fin-  the  War-Minister  and  for  Marmont.  "Really," 
said  he,  "if  von  were  not  my  friends,  I  should  suspect  that  you 
were  betraying  me.  Send  instantly  to  the  arsenals  and  foundries, 
to  suspend  your  fatal  projects,  and  get  as  rnuch  artillery  in  readi- 
ness as  you  can  possibly  collect."  The  navy  was  in  a  still  less 
promising  condition.  Most  of  the  sailors  had  been  sent  to  take 
possession  of  the  colonics  restored  to  the  French,  and  the  marine 
department  had  just  dispatched  a  flotilla  to  occupy  a  small  factory 
in   the   East   Indies,   in  which   they  had    been   re-instated.      Such 


256  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

was  the  security  and  neglect  of  ordinary  precautions  against  the 
possible  renewal  of  war,  that  prevailed  on  all  sides.  The  diffi- 
culties the  First  Consul  had  to  contend  with  in  meeting  the  emer- 
gency, were  immense  ;  but  his  activity  and  the  resources  he 
called  into  play  were  in  proportion.  He  never  relaxed  in  his 
efforts,  nor  showed  any  signs  of  embarrassment.  With  that  sol- 
dier-like frankness  which  is  the  mixed  result  of  courage  and  :f 
pride,  and  which  was  a  part  of  his  character,  he  lost  no  time  in 
making  France  acquainted  with  her  real  situation.  He  laid  be- 
fore the  Legislative  Body  the  several  communications  which  had 
taken  place  previously  to  the  rupture  ;  and  as  they  proved  that 
he  had  done  every  thing  on  his  part  to  make  good  the  treaty 
which  had  been  wantonly  set  aside,  the  nation  warmly  took  up 
his  cause,  pressed  round  its  chief,  and  cheerfully  came  forward 
with  the  means  required  for  issuing  victorious  out  of  a  struggle 
in  winch  his  enemies  could  hardly  pretend  that  he  was  the  ag- 
gressor, but  which  was  aimed  at  the  existence  and  independence 
of  the  state  he  governed. 

The  larger  towns  voted  the  sums  necessary  for  building  ships 
of  war.  which  were  named  after  the  places  which  had  contributed 
the  means  to  equip  them.  The  first  Conscription,  the  plan  of 
which  had  already  been  discussed  in  the  Council  of  State,  was 
drawn  out,  numbering  in  its  ranks  a  multitude  of  hardy  young 
men,  accustomed  to  the  labors  of  the  field,  and  capable  of  facing 
the  hardships  of  a  soldier's  life  ;  while  the  decorations  of  the  Le- 
gion of  Honor  and  the  rewards  and  promotions  distributed  among 
the  common  soldiery  tended  to  give  a  new  character  to  the  army. 
The  cavalry  and  artillery  were  remounted;  every  thing  was 
soon  put  upon  a  war-footing.  The  First  Consul  was  constantly 
receiving  projects  for  an  attack  upon  Fntrland.  His  first  step 
was  to  nut  in  motion  a  part  of  the  troops  that  were  stationed  on  the 
Lower  Rhine,  and  order  them  t  >  advance  into  Hanover.  The 
management  of  this  expedition  was  entrusted  to  General  Mortiej, 
who  commanded  ihe  first  military  division.  The  Hanoverian 
army,  under  the  Duke  of  Cambridge  and  General  Walmoden, 
withdrew  at  the  approach  of  the  French,  and  successively  occu- 
pied different  positions;  but  were  at  length  compelled  to  disband, 
after  giviiv   up  their   arms,  horses,  and   ammunition.      The   regi- 


PREPARATIONS   TO   INVADE   ENGLAND.  237 


ments  of  French  cavalry  were  now  sent  to  Hanover  to  be  re- 
mounted, as  they  had  formerly  been  sent  into  Normandy ;  and 
the  Electorate  furnished  considerable  military  stores  of  all  kinds. 
If  the  English  were  justified  in  keeping  possession  of  Malta  (in 
the  teeth  of  treaties)  lest  it  should  at  some  future  time  be  made  a 
means  of  annoying  us  in  India,  were  not  the  French  at  least 
equally  justified  in  taking  possession  of  a  country  whose  Sove- 
reign was  at  war  with  them,  and  whose  resources  would  be  in- 
stantly turned  against  them  with  the  first  occasion,  in  spite  of  the 
provisions  of  the  Germanic  Constitution  ?  This  was  the  answer 
given  to  Prussia  and  Austria,  who,  being  in  the  true  secret  of  the 
war,  gave  themselves  little  trouble  about  the  diplomatic  glosses  on 
either  side.  The  Prince-Royal  of  Denmark  was  the  only  Sove- 
reign who  protested  against  the  informality  of  the  measure,  and 
raised  an  army  of  thirty  thousand  men  in  Ilolstein  ;  but  being 
unsupported  by  any  other  power,  he  soon  laid  aside  the  offensive 
attitude  which  he  had  assumed. 

The  First  Consul  had  lung  intended  to  visit  the  Netherlands  ; 
he  took  the  occasion  of  the  rupture  with  England  to  fulfil  this  in- 
tention, and  at  the  same  time  to  inspect  the  coast  and  harbors  of 
the  Channel.  lie  set  out  from  St.  Cloud  with  Madame  Buonaparte 
''who  accompanied  him  in  almost  all  his  journey*)  and  dined  at 
Compiegne.  He  went  to  visit  the  palace,  which  had  been  turned 
into  a  school  of  arts  and  manufactures,  and  where  no  fitter  spot 
could  be  found,  for  serving  the  dinner  than  the  landing-place  of 
tin-  great  stair-ease.  Buonaparte  expressed  a  feeling  of  regret  at 
beholding  the  dilapidated  condition  of  so  noble  a  building,  and 
that  same  evening  wrote  to  the  Minister  of  the  Interior  to  give 
orders  for  the  repair  of  this  majestic  pile.  The  school  of  arts  was 
re  mi  ived  to  Chalons.  It  was  right  not  to  have  the  school  and  work- 
shops there  ;  but  perhaps  it  would  have;  been  better  to  have  left 
the  ruin  standing  as  a  memento  of  the  past,  a  warning  for  the 
future.  Ho  might  in  that  ease  have  been  himself  still  standing, 
but  for  the  affectation  of  restoring  decayed  palaces  and  obsolete 
institutions  !  He  was  received  at  Amiens  with  an  enthusiastic 
welcome.  He  staved  some  days  here,  visiting  the  several  estab- 
lishments and  manufactories,  in  the  company  of  Citizens  Monge, 
Chaptal,   and    Berthollet.       He   next    passed   through    Montreuil, 


•25S  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


Etaplcs,  Boulogne,  Amblctcuso,  Vimereux,  Calais,  and  Dunkirk, 

ordering  the  most  skilful  engineers  at  those  several  places  to  fall 
in  with  his  suite,  and  asking  questions  of  every  person  he  met. 
From  Dunkirk  he  proceeded  through  the  principal  fortified  towns 
and  sea-ports  to  Antwerp,  which  remained  in  the  condition  in 
which  he  had  received  it  back  ;  but  where,  after  its  condition  had 
been  thoroughly  examined,  those  important  works  were  under- 
taken which  were  in  the  sequel  carried  into  effect. 

A  Naval  Council  was  assembled  for  the  purpose  of  deliberating 
on  the  means  the  Chief  Consul  possessed  of  grappling  with  the 
power  of  Kngland  at  sea  ;  and  he  became  soon  convinced  that 
the  resources  at  his  actual  disposal  were  wholly  inadequate  to 
the  object  which  he  had  in  contemplation.  The  Council  was 
unanimously  of  opinion  that  the  fleet  oi'  men  of  war  afforded  no 
chance  of  success.  The  only  chance  that  remained  of  contend- 
ing with  England  on  an  equal  footing  was  to  attempt  a  descent, 
which  could  not  be  effoci'ed  without  the  aid  of  a  flotilla.  Decres, 
the  .Minister  of  .Marine,  was  against  the  plan,  saving  that  if  the 
French  constructed  a  flotilla,  the  English  would,  raise  one  also, 
and  come  out  to  meet  them.  Admiral  Bruix  was  for  it,  and  his 
opinion  prevailed.  The  First  Consul  immediately  gave  orders  to 
the  civil  and  naval  engineers  to  draw  up  plans  and  estimates  of 
the  expenses  of  the  works  in  each  department  of  the  service,  and 
to  present  models  of  the  vessels  which  they  deemed  best  calcu- 
lated for  the  undertaking.  lie  then  proceeded  to  Brussels,  where 
he  was  received  with  the  most  lively  acclamations,  and  returned 
to  I'aris  bv  way  of  Liege,  Civet,  Sedan,  llheims,  and  Soissous. 
He  did  n  it  pass  through  a  single  town  that  was  famed  for  anv 
particular  branch  of  industr\  without  visiting  its  works]  ops  and 
manufactories,  and  without  constantly  manifsting  his  regret  at 
hi  ;ng  obliged  so  s  ion  to  withdraw  Ins  attention  from  the  sources 
of  national  prosperity  to  obji  cts  of  u  very  different  nature.  Im- 
mediately after  his  return  to  l\tn<.  on  comparing  the  various  re 
p  irts  that  had  been  sent  in,  lie  issued  directions  f  >r  constructing  a 
vast  number  of  gun-boa's,  (latdiottoined  boa's,  and  other  craft,  to 
the  amount  of  some  thousands.  Kaeh  considerable  citv  had  voted 
money  for  the  building  of  a  man  of  war;  the  less  wealthy  ami 
populous  made  the  same  offer  of  gun-boats  or  flat-bottomed  boats. 


PREPARATIONS    TO   INVADE   EXGLAXD.  259 

These  offers  were  accepted  ;  and  in  order  to  lose  no  time,  and  not 
to  interfere  with  the  ships  of  war  which  were  on  the  stocks, 
t lie  keels  were  laid  along  the  hanks  of  navigable  rivers,  where 
the  carpenters  and  other  workmen  were  assembled  from  the  ad- 
jacent districts;  and  when  finished  they  were  floated  down  to  the 
mouths  of  the  rivers  running  into  the  sea  between  Harfleur  and 
Flushing,  and  being  collected  into  little  squadrons  and  sent  forth 
from  their  retreats,  crept  close  along  the  shore,  favored  by  the 
breezes  or  protected  by  the  batteries  erected  on  the  capes  and 
promontories,  to  their  place  of  rendezvous.  Holland  likewise 
furnished  her  own  flotilla  on  the  same  plan. 

While  the  French  navy  (if  this  Lilliputian  armament  can  be 
called  so)  was  displaying  such  unwonted  activity,  the  army  was  not 
idle.  The  regiments,  the  greater  part  of  which  were  composed 
of  conscripts,  quitted  their  garrisons,  and  proceeded  to  form 
camps  which  extended  from  Utrecht  to  the  mouth  of  the  Somme. 
The  camp  of  Utrecht  was  commanded  by  General  Marmont,  who 
had  been  succeeded  as  inspector  of  artillery  by  General  Songis. 
This  and  Mortier's  formed  the  first  and  second  corps.  The  others, 
under  the  orders  of  Davoust,  Soult,  XVy,  Lannes,  and  Junot,  with 
the  regiments  of  dragoons  and  chasseurs,  lined  the  coast  from  the 
Scheldt  to  the  mouths  of  the  Oise  and  of  the  Aisne.  The  troops 
thus  distributed  were  employed  and  exercised  in  the  manner  of 
the  Romans  ;  they  laid  down  the  musket  to  take  up  the  mattock, 
and  the  mattock  to  resume  the  musket  ;  and,  to  complete  the 
omen  derived  from  this  similarity,  a  Roman  battle-axe  was  re- 
ported to  have  been  dug  up  near  Boulogne,  at  the  same  time  that 
medals  of  William  the  Conqueror  were  also  said  to  be  found  under 
the  spot  where  Buonaparte's  tents  had  been  fixed.  The  engi- 
neers projected  immense  works,  which  were  all  executed  in  this 
manner  by  the  troops.  They  scooped  out  the  harbor  of  Boulogne, 
which  had  been  selected  as  the  centre  of  the  intended  operations  ; 
they  constructed  a  pier,  built  a  bridge,  opened  a  sluice,  and  dug  a 
basin  capable  of  holding  two  thousand  of  the  vessels  of  the  flotilla. 
It  was  resolved  to  form  a  port  at  Vimeri  six,  which  was  to  be  raised 
fifteen  feet  above  the  surface  of  the  sea  in  the  highest  tides.  The 
troops  acord'ngly  fell  to  work,  and  in  less  than  a  year  they  had 


260  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

excavated  and  lined  with  masonry  a  basin  fit  to  receive  two  hun- 
dred gun-boats. 

At  Ambleteuse  the  works  which  had  been  left  unfinished  in 
the  time  of  Louis  XVI.  were  recommenced.  The  bed  of  the  river 
was  so  obstructed  that  the  water  would  not  run  off,  but  covered 
several  thousand  acres  of  land  in  high  cultivation,  thereby  redu- 
cing numbers  of  families  to  poverty,  and  generating  unwholesome 
effluvia  and  noxious  distempers  in  the  neighborhood.  All  this 
was  in  a  short  time  remedied.  A  sluice  was  formed  ;  and  the 
river  returning  within  its  channel,  gave  back  to  agriculture  the 
land  which  it  had  overflowed,  and  to  the  adjacent  country  the 
salubrity  which  it  had  lost.  Thus  in  time  of  war  did  Buonaparte 
contrive  and  execute  the  works  of  peace  !  The  troops  who  were 
employed  in  these  various  and  arduous  labors  were  paid  ;  they 
proceeded  in  them  with  alacrity,  and  only  left  off  when  they  were 
compelled  by  the  tide,  and  then  they  resumed  their  firelocks  and 
went  to  exercise.  It  was  the  same  at  Boulogne,  where  all  the 
works  and  establishments  of  a  great  naval  arsenal  sprung  upas 
if  by  magic.  Magazines  were  firmed,  ships  built,  cannon  founded, 
sails  and  cordage  made,  biscuit  baked,  and  the  army,  which  was 
busv  in  all  these  tasks,  trained  at  the  same  time.  Various 
manoeuvres  were  performed  by  night,  and  the  soldiers  were 
practised  in  embarking  and  disembarking  with  celerity.  The 
superintendance  of  so  many  undertakings  might  be  said  to  sur- 
pass  human  powers  ;  and  yet  the  Chief  Consul  (as  if  he  had  been 
onlv  aniusinir  himself  with  a  licet  of  cockle-shells)  found  time  to 
attend  to  the  vast  concerns  of  France  and  Italy.  No  wonder  it 
was  called  ambition  :  it  was  power,  and  so  far  to  be'  flared  !  He 
had  hired  near  Boulogne  a  small  mansion  called.  Pont  de  Briqur, 
on  the  Paris  road.  lie  usually  arrived  there  when  the  soldiers 
least  expected  him.  immediately  mounted  his  horse,  rede-  through 
the  camps,  and  was  back  again  at  St.  Cloud  when  lie  was  sup- 
posed to  b"  still  in  the  midst  '.ft!)''  troops  ; — or  he  visited  the  har- 
bor, spoke  to  the  men.  and  went  down  into  the  basins  to  ascertain 
with  his  own  eyes  to  what  depth  they  had  dug  since  lie  had  been 
last  there.  He  often  took  back'  to  dine  with  him  at  seven  or 
eight  in  the  evening  Admiral  IJruix,  General  Soult,  Sganzin, 
superintendant  uf  the  works,  Fuultrier,  inspector  of  die  artillery, 


PREPARATIONS   TO   INVADE   ENGLAND.  281 

and  the  commissary  charged  with  the  supply  of  provisions  ;  so 
that  before  he  retired  to  bed,  he  knew  more  of  what  was  going 
forward  than  if  he  had  read  whole  volumes  of  reports.  The 
coolness  of  his  head. seemed  to  keep  pace  with  the  hurry  of  his 
movements,  and  the  clearness  of  his  views  with  the  complication 
of  affairs  and  interests  he  had  to  attend  to.  It  was  at  this  period 
that  the  army  was  first  divided  into  separate  corps  ;  M.  de  la 
Bouillerie,  a  friend  of  General  Moreau,  was  appointed  paymaster- 
general.  Buonaparte  placed  great  confidence  in  him,  which  he 
afterwards  repaid,  as  so  many  others  did. 

\\ "hile  Buonaparte's  projected  expedition  was  viewed  with 
various  sentiments  at  home,  and  was  ridiculed  by  many  as  child- 
ish and  extravagant,  from  a  comparison  of  the  gun-boats  with  the 
size  of  British  men-of-war,  it  caused  a  great  deal  of  bustle  and 
alarm  (serious  or  affected)  on  this  side  of  the  Channel.  All  our 
fleets  were  put  into  requisition  from  the  Baltic  to  the  Tagus,  from 
the  Tagus  to  the  coasts  of  Sicily.  Not  a  fishing-boat  but  seemed 
to  have  new  life  put  into  it,  and  to  prepare  for  the  conflict.  Up- 
wards of  five  hundred  ships  of  war,  of  various  descriptions  and 
sizes,  scoured  the  ocean  in  different  directions.  English  squad- 
rons blockaded  every  port  in  the  Channel  or  Mediterranean  ;  and 
our  cruisers  were  either  seen  scudding  over  the  waters,  like  sea- 
gulls dallying  with  their  native  element  and  hovering  near  their 
prey,  or  stood  in  and  insulted  the  enemy  on  his  own  shores,  cut- 
ting,out  his  vessels  or  dismantling  his  forts.  By  land,  the  hubbub 
and  consternation  was  not  less.  Britain  armed  from  one  end  to 
the  other  to  repel  the  threatened  invasion.  An  army  of  volun- 
teers sprung  up  like  grasshoppers.  Every  hill  had  its  horseman: 
every  bush  or  brake  its  sharp-shooter.  The  preparations  were 
not  the  least  active  at  the  greatest  distance  from  the  scene  of 
danger.  Petitions  were  put  into  our  liturgy  to  deliver  us  from 
an  insolent  and  merciless  foe,  who  '-was  about  to  swallow  us  up 
quick;1'  nor  was  there  a  church-door  in  the  remotest  corner  of 
Croat  Britain  on  which  was  not  posted  a  call  on  high  and  low, 
rich  and  poor,  to  bestir  themselves  in  the  common  defence,  pro- 
ceeding from  Mr.  Cobbett's  powerful  pen,  which  roused  the 
hopes  and  fears  of  the  meanest  rustic  into  a  flame  of  martial  en- 
thusiasm. 


262  LIFE    OF    XAPOLEON. 

;-  Victorque  sinon  mcendia  miscet 
lnsultans." 

There  never  was  a  time  in  which  John  Bull  felt  his  zeal  or  cou- 
rage greater,  or  felt  it  so  with  less  expence  of  real  danger.  We 
had  all  the  trappings,  the  finery,  the  boastings,  and  the  imaginary 
triumphs  of  war,  without  the  tragic  accompaniments  which  were 
left  for  others  to  bear:  our  spirit  of  martyrdom  was  never  put  to 
the  proof,  we  had  become  a  nation  of  heroes  without  shedding  a 
drop  of  our  blood,  and  the  bug-bear  which  had  made  such  a  noise 
drew  off  without  a  blow  being  struck  on  British  ground.  What 
a  difference  between  that  period  and  the  present  !  France  seem, 
ed  then  to  rear  up  and  enlarge  its  vaunted  power,  as  if  it  would 
fall  upon  and  crush  us  :  the  Revolutionary  hydra  haunted  and 
took  sleep  from  our  eyes  ;  now  we  can  scarcely  find  its  faded  form 
in  the  map,  it  is  like  a  cloud  in  the  horizon,  or  no  more  to  us  than 
if  it  had  never  existed,  or  than  if  the  waters  of  the  Channel  had 
rolled  their  briny  ooze  over  it !  France  would  have  troubled  us 
no  more  then  than  now,  if  we  could  but  have  been  persuaded  to 
let  it  alone. 

This  state  of  things  continued  for  nearly  two  years,  which  were 
passed  in  idle  menaces  on  one  side  and  vulgar  bravado  on  the 
other,  keeping  alive  the  spirit  of  rancor  and  hostility,  and  in- 
flaming  old  wounds  or  opening  new  ones,  till  the  chance  of  any 
cordial  reconciliation  became  as  hopeless  as  any  good  to  be  de- 
rived from  the  contest.  The  new  Continental  Coalition  towards 
the  beginning  of  l-i)o  broke  up  the  war  of  words  and  defiance, 
bv  diverting  Buonaparte's  attention  to  a  qu  irry  more  within  his 
grasp  :  and  the  battle  of  Trafalgar  put  the  finishing  stroke  to  the 
plan  of  a  descent  upon  our  coasts.  Buonaparte  has  been  some- 
times accused  of  rashness  and  extravagance  in  dreaming  of  the 
invasion  at  all.  and  at  ot!n  r»  charged  with  duplicity  in  pretending 
that  he  ever  seriously  meditated  it.  He  did  not,  however,  it  is 
clear,  trust  t  i  his  I]  it-b  ;t  urn  d  ie  f  r  off  cting  his  object. 

They  were  nieivlv  intended  in  the  last  resort  to  transport  the 
troops,  after  lie  had  gained  the  command  of  the  Channel  for  a  f'rw 
davs,  bv  collecting  there  a   la  |]   et  of  French  men-of-war  than 

any  the   English  could    bring  ag  dust    him  at   a  moment's   notice. 


PREPARATIONS   TO   INVADE   ENGLAND.  263 

This  event  was  to  be  brought  about  by  putting  into  motion  an  im- 
mense and  precarious  system  of  naval  tactics  and  manoeuvres, 
which  by  their  very  complexity,  secresy,  and  the  uncertainty  of 
the  elements,  which  must  concur  in  their  punctual  execution, 
were  almost  sure  to  miscarry.  His  plan  was  for  the  diffeient 
fleets  he  could  muster  (to  the  amount  of  fifty  or  sixty  vessels  in 
all)  to  get  out  of  the  harbors  where  they  were  blockaded  by  the 
English,  to  rendezvous  at  Martinique,  and  the  English  ships  being 
dispersed  in  pursuit  of  them,  to  set  sail  back  again  all  at  once, 
and  form  a  junction  (together  with  the  Spanish  fleet  who  were  by 
this  time  at  war  with  England)  off  Brest  or  in  Boulogne  harbor, 
so  as  to  make  Buonaparte  master  of  the  Straits  of  Dover  for  thr<  e 
or  four  days,  and  thus  to  enable  him  to  effect  the  landing  of  one 
hundred  and  sixty  thousand  men  in  two  thousand  flat-bottomed 
boats  prepared  for  the  purpose,  and  to  march  immediately  to 
London  and  take  possession  of  the  capital.  In  fact,  in  pursuance 
of  an  infinite  variety  of  orders,  details,  and  contrivances,  the  Tou- 
lon and  Rochefort  squadrons  under  Villeneuve  and  Miciessy,  the 
one  with  twenty,  the  other  with  six  ships  made  their  escape, 
rallied  at  Martinique,  and  returned  to  Europe  after  an  action  with 
Admiral  Calder,  and  some  delay  in  consequence  of  it.  The 
English  squadrons  before  Ferrol  and  Rochefort  finding  the  enemy 
had  escaped  left  those  stations,  and  proceeded  to  join  the  Chan- 
nel fleet  before  Brest,  which  then  became  superior  to  Admiral 
Gantheaume's  fleet  of  twenty-one  ships,  who  could  not  quit  the 
reads  of  Bertheaume  and  Brest  in  order  to  effect  his  union  with 
Admiral  Villeneuve.  The  latter  at  a  loss  what  to  do  in  these 
new  circumstances,  and  always  taking  the  feeblest  course,  instead 
of  making  direct  for  Brest  according  to  Napoleon's  latest  instruc- 
tions and  his  o\tfn  declarations,  put  into  Corunna  and  afterwards 
into  Ferrol,  whence  he  proceeded  to  get  himself  blockaded  in 
Cadiz  harbor.  This  was  in  the  latter  end  of  the  summer  of  1305. 
He  only  went  there  to  tight  the  well-known  battle  of  Trafalgar, 
which  destroyed  the  French  and  Spanish  navies,  and  completely 
prostrated  the  reputation  of  their  unfledged  commanders  before 
that  of  the  English.  In  the  meantime  the  delay  of  Villeneuve  in 
arriving  off  the  mouth  of  the  Channel,  and  tin-  failure  of  so  many 
intricate  combinations,  proved   ruinous  to  the  projected  expedition 


264  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

against  England.  It  was  a  vast  and  unwieldy  machine,  made 
up  of  a  number  of  minute  parts  and  problematical  movements, 
the  derangement  of  any  one  of  which  must  be  nearly  fatal  to  the 
whole.  It  must  be  confessed  that  this  was  the  weak  side  of 
Buonaparte's  character  (for  the  excess  of  strength  always  inclines 
to  a  degree  of  weakness)  that  he  sometimes  seemed  disposed  to 
mistake  the  number  and  extent  of  the  means  that  he  called  into 
existence  and  the  clearness  and  comprehension  with  which  he  ar- 
ranged them,  as  far  as  it  was  possible  beforehand,  for  the  final 
success  of  the  measure,  and  that  his  own  energy  and  resolution, 
both  from  natural  temperament  and  the  confidence  of  habitual 
success,  made  him  put  the  will  for  the  deed  !  The  very  bold- 
ness and  strength  of  will  which  are  necessary  to  great  actions, 
must  often  defeat  them  ;  for  a  high  spirit  does  not  easily  bend  to 
circumstance  or  stoop  to  prudence.  Whatever  were  his  own  re- 
sources, lie  could  not  always  command  the  co-operation  of  others  ; 
yet  his  plans  were  on  too  large  a  scale  not  to  require  it.  Neither 
was  he  wrong  in  attributing  his  failure  to  the  elements:  he  was 
onlv  wrong  in  building  sanguine  hopes  on  schemes  which  de- 
pended on  their  favorable  guidance,  or  in  placing  himself  at  their 
mercy.  I;  is  however  likely  that  he  had  never  much  stomach  for 
the  invasion  of  tins  country  ;  he  perhaps  thought  where  nothing 
could  be  done,  it  was  as  well  to  make  a  proportionable  display  of 
preparations  and  an  ostentatious  career  of  evasions;  and  he  turned 
from  it  twice,  first  to  venture  on  his  Egyptian  expedition,  and  the 
second  time  to  hail  the  sun  of  Austerlitz. 

N<  /her  can  I  think  s  >  po  >rly  of  my  countrymen  (with  all  mv 
dissatisfaction  with  them)  as  to  suppose  that  even  if  Buonaparte 
Lad  miid'-  good  his  landinir,  it  would  have  been  all  over  with  us. 
II--  might  have  le\  I  i  :  Loud  >n  with  the  dust,  but  he  must  have 
covered  the  face  of  the  country  with  heaps  and  tumuli  of  the 
slain,  bi  fore  this  mixed  breed  .,!'  .V.rman  and  Saxon  blood  would 
have  submitted  t  >  a  s<  c  nd  N  >rman  e  iifjuest.  Whatever  may 
be  mv  opinion  of  the  wisdom  of  the  people,  or  the  honesty  of  their 
-.  I  never  denied  tin  >  r  obstinacy.      Thev  do  not 

give  in  the  sooner  in   a   >  r    having    provoked   it.      They 

would  not  receive  a  foreign  invasion  as  a  visit  of  courtesy  ;  nor 
bubmit  10  be  conquered  like  a  nation  of  women,  hardly  complain- 


PREPARATIONS   TO   INVADE   ENGLAND.  265 

ing  of  the  rudeness.  The  French  alone  have  arrived  at  that 
point  of  politeness  and  effeminacy.  The  English  are  not  a  suffi- 
ciently theatrical  people  to  disguise  the  fact  of  having  been  beaten, 
if  they  had  ;  and  are  too  sensible  of  disgrace  not  to  resent  it  to  the 
death.  I  cannot  pretend  to  say,  to  what  point  of  resistance  their 
love  of  their  king  or  country  might  carry  them  ;  but  they  have 
too  much  hatred  of  the  French  ever  to  submit  to  them  as  masters. 

Buonaparte's  hopes  of  a  favorable  reception,  or  of  no  very  de- 
termined resistance  in  Ireland,  were  better  founded  ;  and  one  of 
the  alternatives  proposed  to  Villeneuve  was  to  touch  on  the  West- 
ern coast  of  Ireland,  and  leave  a  detachment  of  troops  there  as  a 
cover  to  the  attempts  upon  England.  That  country  was  disaf- 
fected to  the  English  Government,  and  torn  in  pieces  by  reli- 
gious and  civil  discords  ;  and  worse  usage  was  resorted  to  in 
order  to  regain  its  affections  than  that  by  which  they  had  been 
alienated.  It  had  been  lately  united  to  England,  and  its  legisla- 
tive independence  abolished  by  a  breach  of  faith  and  a  mockery 
of  justice,  which  seemed  the  order  of  the  day  with  the  British 
Ministry,  of  which  Mr.  Pitt  was  become  once  more  the  presiding 
genius.  Two  sanguinary  rebellions  (the  issue  of  which  was 
each  time  nearly  doubtful)  had  broken  out  and  been  crushed  by 
force  of  arms  and  the  most  odious  system  of  civil  treachery  and 
espionage.  Instead  of  a  desire  to  heal  and  remedy  what  was 
amiss,  there  was  n  >  wish  but  to  irritate  and  degrade — to  aggra- 
vate the  injustice  and  punish  the  resistance  to  it — to  consider  the 
nation  as  enemies  and  subjects  at  the  same  time.  Ireland  was 
always  treated  as  a  conquered  province,  to  be  kept  in  submis- 
sion by  fear  and  harshness  ;  an  illiberal  and  narrow-minded  po- 
licy denied  it  agricultural  and  commercial  advantages,  and  the 
difference  of  faith  added  religious  intolerance  to  civil  persecu- 
tion. No  pains  were  take!)  to  instruct  or  improve  ;  to  diffuse 
comfort  or  to  open  the  channels  for  industry,  but  rather  to 
obstruct  them.  England  was  the  step-mother  of  Ireland.  That 
wretched,  short-sighted,  malevolent  system  was  pursued,  which 
sed  that  every  advantage  gained  bv  Ireland,  and  ev<  ry 
advance  she  made  in  civilization  and  prosperitv,  was  a  loss  and 
an  injury  done  to  England  ;  instead  of  that  true  and  enlight- 
ened  one,    equally    approved    by    reason    and    humanity,    which 

vol.  II.  13  23 


266  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

knows  and  which  feels  that  one  state  cultivating  its  natural  and 
peculiar  advantages  to  the  utmost  can  never  be  a  detriment,  but 
must  be  a  benefit  to  another,  while  they  are  united  by  friendly 
intercourse  and  by  the  bond  of  a  common  government.  As  well 
might  one  county  of  England  think  to  prosper  by  ruining  the 
husbandry  of  the  adjoining  county.  Religious  differences  height- 
ened and  Inflamed  the  original  grievance  ;  doubled  the  burdens 
of  the  poor  •  jaundiced  their  minds,  and  by  throwing  them  into 
the  hands  of  the  Popish  clergy,  fostered  their  ignorance  and  made 
the  evil  hopeless.  Sloth,  poverty,  and  a  sense  of  debasement 
rendered  them  reckless  of  consequences,  unable  to  see  their  way 
out  of  them,  except  by  violence  and  bloodshed  ;  and  thus  a  whole 
people,  by  mismanagement  and  mischievous  prejudices,  were 
daily  plunged  deeper  into  civil  strife  or  a  state  of  merely  animal 
existence.  The  example  of  other  countries,  and  "  envy  of  hap- 
pier lands,"  that  had  asserted  their  independence,  gave  the  last 
temptation  to  their  disloyalty ;  and  Ireland  about  this  time  hung 
trembling  in  the  balance  between  her  wavering  allegiance  to 
Great  Britain  and  her  inclination  to  accept  the  overtures  to  aid 
her  in  the  recovery  of  her  disputed  rights.  Buonaparte  wished 
that  she  should  throw  herself  into  the  arms  of  France  ;  but  to 
this  the  leaders  of  that  parly  who  were  desirous  to  separate  Ire- 
land from  her  union  with  England,  would  never  consent ;  and 
on  that  understanding,  they  finally  parted.* 

It  was  in  the  interval  here  spoken  of,  immediately  after  the  break, 
ing  off  of  the  Treaty  of  Amiens,  and  while  [monaparte  was  strength- 
ening and  enlarging  the  foundations  of  his  power,  that  this  &  mntry 
(strange  to  say)  was  inundated  with  theories  and  elaborate  trea- 
tises to  prove  the  nullity  of  all  attempts  at  liberty  and  the  bless- 
ings of  absolute  monarchy.  Mr.  Malthus's  celebrated  Essay  on 
Population,  which  got  into  great  vogue  just  at  this  time,  stilled 
the  voice  of  humanity;  and  by  representing  the  perfectibility  of 
social  institutions  as  the  greatest  evil  that  could   happen  from  the 

*  ••When  the  Catholic  (juesiion  was  first  seriously  agitated."  said  Napo- 
leon .  "  I  would  hive  given  fifty  millions  to  he  assured,  that  it  would  not  he 
grantee]  ;  for  it  would  have  entirely  ruined  my  projects  upon  Ireland,  as  the 
Catholics,  it'  you  emancipate  them,  would  become  as  loyal  subjects  as  the 
Protestants." — f/Meara.  vol.  i.  p.  'i'M. 


PREPARATIONS   TO   INVADE   ENGLAND.  267 

overwhelming  population  that  would  rush  in  when  the  restraints 
of  vice  and  misery  were  taken  away,  effectually  served  to  make 
every  gradation  towards  improvement  and  approach  to  liberty  and 
happiness  suspected  and  to  he  viewed  with  an  instinctive  horror 
and  distrust.  Dr.  Bisset  at  great  length  went  into  the  flourishing 
state  of  the  Romans  and  the  happiness  of  the  world  under  the 
latter  Emperors ;  and  Mr.  Mitford  in  his  History  of  Greece  fully 
exposes  the  mischiefs  of  Republics.  And  all  this  at  a  period 
when  the  press,  the  pulpit,  the  taverns,  and  the  theatre  resounded 
with  patriotic  appeals  and  invectives  against  the  strides  of  the 
French  Usurper  towards  universal  dominion.  One  would  have 
thought  these  studied  ami  systematic  apologies  for  the  evils  of 
war,  ambition,  and  arbitrary  government  were  intended  to  flatter 
him  and  smooth  his  path  to  power.  Far  from  it:  they  were 
meant  to  aid  and  exasperate  the  popular  and  party  watch-words 
of  the  day.  For  power  and  prejudice  knew  full  well  with  that 
consistent  truth  and  keeping  that  belongs  to  them  and  that  shames 
the  faltering  ami  misguided  friends  of  freedom,  that  his  strongest 
pretensions  and  his  hold  on  power  were  rooted  in  the  illusions  of 
liberty  and  the  progress  of  liberal  principles  ;  and  that  by  blight- 
ing these  which  were  the  supports  of  the  new  system,  they  lent 
the  most  effectual  aid  to  the  antagonist  system  they  wanted  to  prop 
up,  and  by  stopping  the  current  of  enthusiasm  and  the  hope  of 
public  good,  let  public  opinion  drift  back  again  unseen  but  irre- 
vocably to  that  sink  of  apathy,  corruption,  and  inveterate  abuse, 
which  was  the  haven  of  their  desires,  and  the  bourn  from  whic/t 
slavery  never  returns. 


•26S  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII 

CONSPIRACY    OF    GEORGES,    PICHEGRU,    AND    OTHERS. 

It  should  seem  that  the  contest  in  which  England  had  em. 
barked  to  restore  the  Bourbons  and  overturn  the  popular  Govern- 
incut  of  France,  had  not  only  involved  a  sacrifice  of  the  political 
principles  which  had  hitherto  distinguished  us  from  the  rest  of  the 
world,  but  also,  as  the  cause  became  desperate,  led  to  a  change 
in  the  moral  sentiments  of  the  country.  In  our  fits  of  revenge 
and  disappointment,  we  hud  worked  ourselves  up  to  regard  the 
enemy  opposed  to  us  in  mortal  strife  as  wretches,,  outlaws,  traitors, 
rebels,  who  were  to  be  got  rid  of  at  any  price,  and  we  did  not 
scruple  to  snatch  at  any  means  which  were  calculated  to  attain 
so  worthy  an  end,  and  which  were  daubed  over  with  the  colors  of 
loyalty  and  patriotism  by  the  passions  winch  suggested  them. 
Mr.  Fox  had  been  unwilling  to  allow  that  the  British  Cabinet 
knew  any  thing  of  the  Infernal  Machine:  perhaps  the  number 
and  description  of  persons  (some  of  them  the  very  same)  that  now 
continually  crossed  the  Channel,  and  were  landed  from  English 
cutter.-  on  the  c  ast  of  France,  might  have  staggered  him  in  his 
opinion,  had  he  had  to  d  di-nd  it  anew  with  the  First  Consul.  If 
in  our  habitual  language  and  feelings  we  are  determined  to  con- 
sider anv  une  as  n  i  better  than  a  mad  dig  or  a  wild  beast,  we 
shall  beloi'e  long  let  our  actions  slide  into  the  same  train.  1  should 
i  it  -  uti  r  inl  i  r  insist  m  this  vii  w  of  lb  '  subj'-ct.  but  that  a  hol- 
1  ;W  tone  of  liMi'al  purity  has  b  ■  n  made  the  [m  e-xt  fn'  u 
mining  the  foundations  uf  every  spoils  of  political  liberty,  and 
tn.it  1  e  niceive  the  exin  me  tin  i>ui'i  -  '  i  u  inch  Fnirlan  1  res  rt<  d 
at  this  period,  and  the  llagrant  departure  I'r  mi  the  blunt  and  strait- 
tiirward  character  t  >  whicii  sii"  laid  claim,  proved  to  a  demonstra- 
ti  'ii  that  there  was  a  radic  d  c  .  .._•■  in  lier  c  unsels,  an  I  that  the 
war  had  a  tar  deeper  and  deadlier  obj<  ct  at  stake-  (beyond  the  pro- 


CONSPIRACY  OF  GEORGES,  PICHEGRU,  ETC.  269 

fessed  and  immediate  one)  rankling  in  the   hear'.s  of  its  leaders, 
and  urging  them  on  in  a  course  of  infatuation  and  dishonor. 

The  original  object  of  the  war,  whether  this  were  overturning 
the  new  form  of  Government  or  checking  the  political  ascendency 
of  France,  was  still  as  far  or  farther  than  ever  from  its  accom- 
plishment. Neither  peace  nor  war  seemed  to  dissolve  the  power 
nor  to  influence  the  good  fortune  of  the  French  Ruler.  We  had 
made  peace  with  him,  flunking  that  he  was  a  mere  soldier:  find- 
ing that  he  applied  himself  with  equal  zeal  and  success  to  advan- 
cing the  prosperity  and  glory  of  the  Republic  in  peace,  and  des- 
pairing of  ruining  him  that  way,  we  made  war  upon  him  again. 
We  had  gained  nothing  more  by  this  step  than  to  be  able  to  repel 
and  set  at  defiance  the  threat  of  invasion,  and  we  did  not  talk  as 
vet  of  returning  the  compliment.  One  sign  of  success,  however, 
is  a  blind  adherence  to  our  purpose  in  the  midst  of  failure,  and  a 
determination  not  to  turn  back,  though  we  have  not  the  most  dis- 
tant prospect  of  ever  coming  to  our  journey's  end.  Though  we 
could  not  carry  the  war  with  broad  and  open  front  into  France, 
yet  the  rupture  of  the  Peace  of  Amiens  gave  us  the  opportunity 
of  insinuating  plots  and  conspiracies,  and  disseminating  civil  war, 
by  the  intervention  of  flights  of  emissaries  sent  over  from  Eng- 
land, and  their  intrigues  with  the  swarms  of  emigrants  that  Buo- 
naparte (after  he  was  chosen  Consul)  had  called  home,  as  if  for 
the  very  purpose.  There  was  more  in  it  than  this.  Buonaparte 
had  become  the  direct  obstacle  of  peace,  that  is,  to  the  projects 
of  the  old  Governments;  he  was  the  main  prop  of  the  Colossus 
that  was  said  to  threaten  the  extinction  of  the  civilized  world:  the 
power  and  genius  of  Republican  France  were  centered  in  his 
single  person.  What  scheme  then  so  feasible  or  so  effectual  as  to 
cut  short  the  ramifications  and  intricate  knots  of  conspiracy  with 
the  dagger,  and  to  get  rid  of  the  obnoxious  individual  at  whom 
they  all  pointed,  by  a  side-blow  or  the  chance-medley  of  assassi- 
nation, which  it  would  be  easy  to  lay  on  the  uncontrollable  fury 
of  the  opposing  factions  and  the  desperate  designs  and  characters 
of  the  different  agents;  from  the  complexion  and  well-known  his 
tory  of  most  of  these  (rubbers,  outlaws,  incendiaries)  it  is  evident 
that  such  a  catastrophe  was  likely  to  happen  ;  and  at  any  rate,  it 
was  not  the   result   the  least  thought  of  or   the   most  carefully 


!270  LIFE    OF   NAPOLEON. 

guarded  against.  Indeed,  the  dissolute  character  and  reckless 
fanaticism  of  these  men,  who  were  sent  over  at  imminent  risk  of 
their  lives,  and  concealed  with  the  profbundest  mystery,  so  that 
they  could  only  strike  some  dark  and  deadly  blow  which  they 
would  consider  as  an  act  of  devoted  heroism,  was  the  only  chance 
or  hope  the  conspiracy  had  of  success:  it  had  no  other  means  or 
strength,  nor  were  any  risings  to  be  effected  in  the  West  nor  the 
French  Princes  to  come  forward  till  the  decisive  blow  had  been 
struck.  Mr.  Drake  and  Mr.  Spencer  Smith,  our  envoys  at  Mu- 
nich and  Stuttgard,  were  busy  in  carrying  on  an  intrigue  with 
some  pretended  Jacobin  insurgents,  offering  them  money  from 
the  English  Government  (who  else  could  give  it  ?)  and  always 
pointing  out  Buonaparte  as  the  great  obstacle  to  success;  the 
Duke  D'Enghien  was  at  Ettenheim  waiting  the  event;  Pichegru 
went  over  from  London  (where  he  had  been  lurking)  to  sound 
Moreau,  and  to  gain  over  the  disaffected  among  the  military;  and 
Georges  Cadoudal,  and  other  Yendean  Chiefs,  were  brought  to 
Paris  and  had  frequent  interviews  with  the  Polignacs,  Do  La 
Reviercs,  and  some'  of  the  most  distinguished  emigrants  in  Paris, 
to  forward  the  like  chivalrous  and  spirited  designs. 

Indistinct  rumors  were  for  some  time  afloat  as  if  to  prepare  t lie 
public  mind  for  a  great  change  ;  and  letters  were  received  from 
London,  confidently  stating  that  the  First  Consul  would  shortly  be 
arrested  in  his  career.  Alarming  intelligence  was  also  received 
of  meetings  and  discourses  hold  by  peasants  in  La  Vendee.  The 
First  Consul  grew  nneasv,  and  determined  to  search  the  matter  to 
the  bottom.  lie  is  said  to  have  had  a  remarkable  tart  for  judging 
when  he  was  upon  a  volcano;  but  this  is  n  >t  wond  rful  in  one 
(even  of  less  sagacity)  who  had  a  knowb  dge  of  every  circum- 
stance that  was  passing,  and  so  deep  an  interest  in  the  event. 
Then;  was  at  this  time  (the  beginning  of  ISO  1)  no  Ministry  or 
Police,  that  office  havinir  been  abolished  soon  alter  the  peace  at 
the  siiLTLi'esti  in  of  Tal  1  e v rand .  as  useless  and  odious,  and  partly  to 
eel  rid  of  the  troublesome  influence  of  Fouche,  to  whom  the 
M  i  istor  for  Foreign  Affairs  was  bv  no  means  friendly.  A 
■  11  ir  of  State  (M.  Real)  had  the  superintendancc  of  every 
thing  of  this  sort,  in  cone  rt  with  the  Grand-Judge.  Trials  by 
councils  of  war  had  of  late  been  rare  ;    but  there  were  a  number 


CONSPIRACY  OF  GEORGES.  PICIIEGRU,  ETC.  271 


of  persons  detained  in  prison  as  spies  or  for  other  political  offences. 
Buonaparte  had  a  list  of  these  laid  before  him.  Among  them 
was  a  man  named  Picot,  and  another  named  Le  Bourgeois,  who 
had  been  apprehended  the  foregoing  year  at  Pont-Audener  in 
Normandy,  as  coming  from  England  with  intent  to  assassinate  the 
First  Consul.  They  had  hitherto  been  merely  kept  in  prison. 
They  and  three  others  were  now  ordered  to  be  brought  before  a 
commission  to  be  tried.  The  t\*;o  first-mentioned  refused  to  an- 
swer, and  were  condemned  and  shot  without  making  the  slightest 
discovery.  They  persisted  in  declaring  that  the  Republic  would 
not  survive  the  war.  Their  obduracy  lessened  the  pity  of  the 
spectators;  but  not  a  step  had  been  gained.  The  other  trials 
were  postponed.  A  disclosure  of  the  intrigues  and  manoeuvres 
of  the  English  resident  at  the  court  of  Wirtemberg  took  place 
about  this  time.  The  First  Consul  became  very  anxious  ;  and 
one  night,  looking  over  the  list  of  prisoners,  saw  the  name  of 
Querel,  who  was  described  as  a  native  of  Bas  Bretagne,  and  as 
having  served  as  a  surgeon  in  the  rebel  army.  He  had  come  to 
Paris  about  two  months  before  ;  a  creditor  whom  he  was  unable 
to  pay  had  given  information  against  him.  "This  man,"  said 
Buonaparte,  "  is  not  actuated  by  enthusiasm,  but  by  the  hope  of 
gain,  and  he,  will  be  more  likely  to  confess  than  the  others."  Ho 
was  accordingly  tried  the  next  day  as  h  Chouan,  and  condemned 
to  death  ;  but  as  he  was  led  to  execution,  he  demanded  to  be 
heard  and  promised  to  make  important  disclosures.  lie  was  con- 
ducted back  to  prison,  where  he  made  his  declarations.  He  in 
fact  confessed  that  he  had  come  from  England,  and  had  been 
landed  on  the  coast  from  Captain  \Y right's  ship  in  company  with 
Georges,  in  August  1803.  Indifferent  nights  of  August,  Sep- 
tember, and  December  1803,  and  January  1801,  Wright  had 
landed  Georges,  Piohegru,  Riviere,  Coster,  St.  Victor,  La  Have, 
Si.  llilaire,  and  others,  at  Beville  in  Normandy.  The  fburlast- 
!  'lined  had  been  accomplices  in  the  affair  of  the  Infernal  Machine  ; 
;md  most  of  the  rest  were  well  known  to  be  Chouan  chiefs. 
They  remained  during  the  day  at  a  little  farm-house  near  the 
place  where  they  had  landed  ;  the  proprietor  of  which  had  been 
oribed  to  assist  them.  They  travelled  only  by  night,  pretending 
to  be  smugglers,  concealing   themselves   in  the  day-time  in  lodf- 


272  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 

ings  which  had  been  previously  procured  for  them.  They  enter- 
ed  Paris  singly,  where  they  never  went  out  or  showed  themselves 
but  when  summoned  for  some  particular  purpose,  and  where 
Georges  also  lay  hid.  They  had  all  been  landed  from  an  Eng- 
lish cutter  at  the  same  spot,  at  the  foot  of  the  cliff  of  Bevilie 
iear  Dieppe,  which  they  ascended  by  means  of  the  Smuggler's 
Hope,  and  were  met  by  a  man  from  Eu  or  T report,  called 
Troche,  the  son  of  a  watch-maker,  who  was  an  old  emissary  of 
the  party.  Savary,  with  some  police-ollicers,  was  instantly  dis- 
patched to  the  spot,  where  he  found  all  the  particulars  to  corres- 
pond with  the  previous  statement,  and  saw  an  English  cutter  near 
the  shore,  (as  it  was  said,  with  an  illustrious  personage  on  board) 
but  which,  on  some  alarm  being  given,  sin  ered  oil*. 

At  the  same  time  an  emigrant,  named  Bouvet  de  Lozier.  was 
also  arrested.  After  ho  had  been  confined  for  some  weeks,  he 
became  desperate,  and  hung  himself  in  the  prison  one  morning. 
The  gaoler  hearing  an  unusual  noise  in  the  room,  ran  in  and  cut 
him  down  in  time.*  While  he  was  recovering  his  senses,  he 
broke  out  into  incoherent  exclamations  that  Morcau  had  brought 
Pichegru  from  London,  that  he  was  a  traitor  and  had  persuaded 
*hi'in  (the  emigrants)  that  the  army  were  all  for  him.  and  that  he 
would  prove  the  cause  of  their  destruction.  This  excited  fresh 
suspicions.  The  police  knew  that  a  brother  of  Pichegru,  who 
had  been  a  monk,  lived  in  Paris.  lie  was  discovered  in  an  ob- 
scure lodging,  ami  being  interrogated,  owned  that  he  had  seen 
his  brother  within  a  \'r\v  davs,  and  asked  "  W  it  wi're  a  crime  ?" 
.Morcau  was  arrested  on  his  wav  from  Gros-Bois,  (his  countrv- 
house)  and  large  rewards  were  ollbivd  for  the  apprehension  of 
Pichegru  and  Georges.  Pichegru  was  betrayed  bv  one  of  his 
old  friends  with  whom  he  lived,  and  who  came  to  the  police  and 
otiercd  to  deliver  him  up  for  a  hundred  thousand  francs  paid  on 
the  spot.  Piclc'LO'ii  had  been  received,  and  was  secreted  in  this 
man  -  li  iii.-'  soi new  here  near  the  barrier  id"  Xeuillv,  whence  he 
had  -  -lie  to  his  di  lib  rent  interviews  with  M  ran.  I  Je  was  a 
large,  powerful  man.  and  the  p  ,]](_■<■  had  s  mu1  diliiculty  in  si  i/.ing 
him;    they  rushed    upon    him    while  he  was    ash'ep,    struck   out  a 

*  I  Ltd  In;  suei:i."''l>"l  in  tin' aitcaijit.  it  wuiiH  probably  have  been  attribu- 
ted to  Buonaoarte.  and  recorded  L..],^  at'ter  anion;'  "  Lis  other  atrocities." 


CONSPIRACY  OF  GEORGES,  PICHEGRU,  ETC.         273 

light  which  was  burning  by  his  bedside,  and  overturned  a  table 
on  which  his  pistol  lay.  He  was  carried  before  the  Grand- 
Judge,  and  at  first  persisted  in  an  absolute  denial  of  any  know- 
ledge of  the  conspiracy,  till  he  had  been  successively  confronted 
with  such  of  Georges's  accomplices  as  had  already  been  arrested. 
Georges  himself  still  continued  to  elude  the  vigilance  of  the  po- 
lice. Paris  was  surrounded  with  a  cordon  of  troops,  and  the  barriers 
were  closed  night  and  day,  and  only  opened  for  the  market-people  to 
pass  and  repass.  The  cavalry  of  the  guard  and  of  the  garrison 
furnished  guard  posts  on  the  outer  Boulevards,  and  had  videttes 
round  the  wall  inclosing  the  capital.  Continually  moving  from 
one  towards  the  other,  the  latter  formed  permanent  patroles, 
having  orders  to  apprehend'  every  one  who  should  seek  to  gain 
the  country  by  scaling  the  walls. 

Paris  remained  in  this  state  of  gloomy  alarm,  presenting  the 
aspect  of  a  city  in  a  state  of  siege,  for  nearly  three  weeks.  At 
the  end  of  that  period,  Georges  was  betrayed  and  taken,  having 
first  shot  one  of  the  men  employed  to  arrest  him.  He  was  dis- 
covered in  a  cabriolet,  in  which  after  being  driven  from  hiding- 
place  to  hiding-place,  and  shunned  by  all  his  associates,  he  had 
passed  the  last  two  days  in  riding  about  Paris,  and  meant  to  have 
attempted  his  eseape  from  it,  just  as  he  was  seized.  Such  is  the 
state  of  harassing  anxiety  and  desperation  to  which  these  men 
were  led  in  the  first  instance  by  a  strong  principle  of  party-spirit, 
which  had  no  other  support  or  encouragement  to  carry  it  through 
to  the  very  jaws  of  agony  and  death  than  t lie  love  of  violent  ex- 
citement, and  the  sense  of  the  depth  of  the  stake  that  was  played 
fir  !  It  was  in  itself  no  very  enviable  situation  for  Georges  to  be 
in,  to  be  an  object  of  execration  and  vengeance  to  a  whole  city  ; 
what  then  hardened  him  against  compunction  or  remorse  ?  It 
was  the  reflection  that  he  had  been  able  to  throw  a  whole  city  into 
consternation,  and  might  yet  bailie  his  pursuers.  The  resolution 
of  such  men  is  strengthened  instead  of  being  weakened  by  the 
mischief  they  have  done,  even  though  it  has  recoiled  upon  them- 
selves ;  the  mind  is  happily  relieved  from  the  sense  of  insignifi 
cance  ;  nor  can  they  be  bribed,  by  any  temptation,  to  keep  their 
hands  oil*  the  wires  and  pulleys  tiiat  move  such  might.}-  levers, 
and  lead  to  the  convulsion  of  states.      Georges  is  described  as  a 

13* 


274  LIFE   OF   XAPOLFOX. 

man  of  great  courage  and  activity,  brutal  and  ignorant,  and  deaf 
to  every  thing  but  his  own  rooted  prejudices.  Buonaparte,  after 
the  establishment  of  the  Consulship,  tried  to  win  him  over,  but  in 
vain.  He  told  him,  that  even  if  he  succeeded  in  restoring  the 
Bourbons,  they  would  only  look  upon  him  as  a  peasant,  a  miller's 
son.  Georges  probably  thought  himself  that  he  was  only  a  mil- 
ler's son.  The  fanatic  bows  down  before  his  idol,  without  asking 
what  the  object  of  his  homage  thinks  of  him  !  Georges  then  went 
over  to  England,  where  he  became  a  confidential  spy  and  agent 
of  tiie  Bourbons.  He  and  his  confederates  underwent  a  public 
trial  in  the  month  of*  May.  (180-1)  before  the  tribunal  of  the  de- 
partment of  the  Seine,  and  in  the  presence  of  all  the  Foreign 
Ambassadors.  Georges,  Polignac,  Riviere,  Coster,  and  sixteen  or 
seventeen  others  were  found  guilty,  on  the  clearest  evidence,  and 
by  the  confession  of  several  among  them,  of  having  conspired 
against  the  life  of  the  First  Consul  and  the  safety  of  the  Republic, 
and  were  c  aidemned  to  death.  Georges  and  Coster,  with  seven 
or  eight  more,  were  executed.  Riviere  was  pardoned  a;  the  par- 
ticular instigati  in  of  Murat.  \vh  an  he  repai  i  h  ith  ingratitude,  and 
is  said  in  181o  to  have  set  a  price  upon  his  head.  Buonaparte 
pan!  inn]  some  of  the  others,  partieularlv  the  Marquis  Pulignac, 
at  the  instance  of  his  wife.  Moreau  was  c  ind'-mncd  to  two  vears' 
imprisonment,  which  was  commuted  to  banishment  to  America. 
M.  Jules  de  Pulignac,  confidant  of  the  Count  (FArtuis,  and  some 
I'.hei's,  wire  a'..- 1  sentenced  to  imprisonment.  Pichc^ru  killed 
him-    . :  .        .  '■■   u.  u  hi!e  the  trials  wmv  g  ilwj  on. 

The  ubj'-cl  'if  this  conspiracv.  which  had  excited  so  much  ex- 
[)i  1"  itiuu.  widen  hail  set  so  many  engines  at  u  irk,  ami  the'  crush- 
iuLT  of  which  se  lie  e i  ;  .  have  put  an  en  ;  to  >imilar  atlempts  from 
iii"  -  me  ijiiarter.  appeai-s  to  have  Ij  ■■  .1  tirsl  :  1  tamper  with  and 
iriiii    over   the-    ;  K-aiis   of  the  di-aih-cteil    LTenerals  ;    and 

lii   11.    ;,       :i'i    ..  il    rid    of    F.   naparte    by    u    coiip-'b-muin.    which 
.  :.  ; v  •  i.'o>t  11  jt i  1  i  11  ir  1  ''.,■;.-•    stirring   m     1  tru>t- 

-  it   u  as    judici    uslv  cast  ' 

brai  t  1   march  w  ith   them   to    Paris   and 

ie   P,  uirb  ins.       This  11  rahm  scheuie,  <<i\  which  expense 

a. id  .  vi  -  \vi  ;■■■  lavished  in  pr  >p  ■•::':  >n  t  >  its  wi  Ida  ess  and  prolligacv, 

fa  ile  !  (as  it  was  just  ripe'  for  execution)  thru  ugh  the  indecision  or 


CONSPIRACY  OF  GEORGES,  PICHEGRU,  ETC.  275 

dormant  ambition  of  Moreau,  whose  "  half- faced  fellowship"  was 
the  pivot  on  which  it  turned.  He  had  long  been  a  malcontent ; 
and  was  marked  out  by  temperament  and  circumstances  to  figure 
as  a  marplot.  The  soundness  of  his  principles  had  been  more 
than  doubted  ever  since  the  defection  of  Pichegru  in  1797,  whose 
correspondence  with  the  enemy  he  kept  a  secret  for  several 
months,  (when  his  silence  might  have  been  fatal  to  his  country) 
and  afterwards,  when  the  correspondence  was  discovered  by  other 
means,  affected  to  denounce  and  set  it  in  the  most  glaring  light, 
thus  showing  an  equal  disregard  to  public  or  private  obligation. 
Nothing  saved  Moreau  from  general  reprobation  and  contempt  for 
his  conduct  on  this  occasion  but  the  natural  mildness  and  indo- 
lence of  his  disposition,  it  not  being  sufficiently  considered  that 
men  without  bad  or  mischievous  passions  themselves  are  often 
made  the  easiest  and  most  dangerous  tools  of  the  sinister  designs 
of  others.  He  never  relished  Buonaparte.  This  was  natural 
enough,  both  from  the  competition  between  them  as  to  military 
reputation  and  from  the  opposition  of  their  characters.  Moreau 
had  no  pretensions  out  of  the  field  of  battle  ;  and  he  hated  and 
affected  to  condemn  Buonaparte  for  having  pushed  on  in  a  career, 
for  which  he  himself  possessed  neither  talents,  acquirements,  nor 
inclination.  During  the  whole  of  the  Consulate,  his  conduct  was 
that  of  the  dog  in  the  fable.  His  cynical  affectation  of  simplicity 
was  wounded  pride  ;  and  there  was  too  much  of  petty  spleen  and 
sullen  mortification  in  the  expression  of  his  dissent  not  to  be  at- 
tributed to  personal  pique  and  disappointment  rather  than  to 
manly  reason  or  public  principle.  Diogenes  was  said  to  trample 
on  Plato's  pride  with  greater  pride.  Moreau  was  one  of  those 
common-place  characters  who  do  not  see  beyond  themselves  or 
bevond  certain  vague  generalities,  who  have  not  vigor  enough  to 
understand  the  departure  from  approved  forms  required  on  great 
occasions,  or  magnanimity  enough  to  applaud  the  success,  tie 
had  not  sufficient  attachment  to  the  rule  to  reconcile  him  to  the 
exception.  He  could  sooner  pardon  those  who  had  ruined  the 
country  by  technical  imbecility,  than  those  who  had  saved  it  by 
boldness  and  decision.  He  could  not  adopt  the  words  of  the  poet 
in  addressing  one  who  resembled  the  warrior  and  statesman  who 
fir^t  suiiirested  them — 


276  LIFE    OF   NAPOLEON. 

"  Still  as  you  rise,  the  state  exalted  too, 
Finds  no  distemper  while  'tis  changed  by  you :" 

Ho  would  more  willingly  have  it  run  to  waste  by  incapacity  or 
trampled  in  the  dust  by  the  opposite  party,  than  that  one  of  his 
own  should  have  the  glory  of  delivering  or  reconstructing  it.  It 
was  not  the  advancement  or  depression  of  the  common  weal  that 
lie  cared  ahout,  but  his  own  share  in  the  event,  or  whether  lie  oc- 
cupied the  top-most  round  in  fortune's  ladder.  This  is  the  case 
with  the  Moderates  and  Precisians  in  all  times  and  places.  They 
had  endured  Robespierre,  because  he  had  not  shocked  their  self- 
love  ;  and  on  the  other  hand,  that  he  did  so,  was  with  them 
Buonaparte's  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost.  Moreau  lent  his  assist- 
ance to  the  General  of  Italy  on  the  18th  of  Brumaire  ;  but  seemed 
soon  sick  of  the  success  of  that  enterprise.  His  spleen  broke  out 
in  spite  of  himself.  On  one  occasion,  Carnot  had  made  the  First 
Consul  a  present  of  a  pair  of  pistols  richly  mounted  :  Moreau  en. 
tered  the  room  soon  after,  when  Buonaparte  said,  ''This  is  well; 
for  here  comes  .Moreau.  who  w  ill  honor  me  by  accepting  them." 
Moreau  too];  them  sullenly,  and  without  a  word  of  acknowledg- 
ment. Napoleon  asked  him  to  the  public  dinners,  which  he  de- 
clined attending  ;  so  that  at  last  the  First  Consul  desisted  from  the 
attempt:  "He  has  refused  me  twice,'"''  he  said,  "he  shall  not  do 
so  a  third  time.  He  will  one  of  these  davs  run  his  head  against 
the  pillars  of  the  Thuilleries  ;  but  1  wash  my  hands  of  him." 
When  the  Legion  of  Honor  was  established,  and  it  was  proposed 
to  extend  it  beyond  the  military  to  men  of  science  and  merit  of 
every  description,  Moreau  said  with  a  sneer,  "Then  I  will  pro- 
pose mv  cook  as  a  candidate  ;  for  he  is  very  skilful  and  a  person 
of  great  merit  in  the  science  of  cookery  ' — thus  by  his  very  petu- 
lance and  the  narrowness  of  his  views  showing  his  unfitness  to 
censure  others.  lie  was  led  away  by  his  wife  (a  Mademoiselle 
I  lull  in),  a  Creole,  whom  he  had  married  at  the  recommendati  m 
of'  Josephine.  Her  mother  (Madame  I  [ulliii)  gave  herself  such 
airs  affefw  ards,  that  Talleyrand  was  once  actually  obliged  to 
interfere  to  prevent  her  taking  precedence  of  Madame  Buona- 
parte ;  and  she  used  to  sav  that  the  wife  of  the  First  Consul  ought 
to  have  been  a  woman    like    her  daughter  and    not  a  ganon    like 


CONSPIRACY  OF  GEORGES,  PICHEGRU,  ETC.  277 

Josephine.  It  was  a  misfortune  to  Moreau,  as  Buonaparte 
shrewdly  observed,  to  be  governed  in  this  manner  ;  for  in  that 
case  a  man  is  neither  himself  nor  his  wife,  but  nothing.  But  she 
and  her  mother  were  violent  Royalists,  full  of  intrigue,  which 
they  carried  on  with  that  fool-hardiness,  which  in  woman  arises 
from  a  mixture  of  vanity,  feebleness,  and  a  sense  of  impunity. 
Independently  of  this  circumstance,  it  may  seem  strange  that 
Moreau,  who  quarrelled  with  Buonaparte  for  not  being  sufficiently 
republican,  should  have  gone  over  to  the  Royalist  side  in  revenge. 
But  the  truth  is,  that  Royalist  or  Republican  often  signifies  nothing 
more  than  the  necessity  of  belonging  to  some  party  that  has  strong 
prejudices  and  large  numbers  to  support  it;  and  that  the  mind 
veers  from  one  side  to  the  other,  according  to  circumstances,  to 
save  thought  and  exertion. 

Moreau  had  for  some  time  lived  retired  at  his  estate  of  Gros- 
Bois,  which  was  the  rendezvous  of  the  discontented  military  or 
of  intriguing  royalists.  He  affected  to  hold  himself  aloof  from 
the  actual  government,  but  did  not  set  up  any  particular  claims 
of  his  own.  It  is  however  difficult  for  a  man  to  remain  long  neu- 
ter who  is  courted  by  one  party,  and  who  is  averse  to  the  other. 
It  was  thought  that  he  could  give  a  turn  to  the  sentiments  of  the 
military  at  the  present  juncture;  and  it  was  also  conceived, 
that  lie  and  Pichegru  could  not  better  patch  up  their  old  friend- 
ship, which  had  been  broken  off  by  the  untimely  discovery  of  a 
former  plot,  than  by  concerting  a  new  treason.  Lajolais,  an  aide- 
de-camp  and  private  secretary  of  Moreau  at  the  time  of  Pichegru's 
correspondence  with  Kinglin,  was  made  the  go-between.  He 
went  to  London  with  various  overtures,  where  he  saw  the  Count 
I)  Artois  at  Pichegru's  lodgings.  Pichegru  came  over  some  time 
after.  He  had  several  meetings  with  Moreau  by  stealth  and  with 
considerable  backwardness  on  the  part  of  the  latter.  The  first 
time  was  on  the  Boulevards.  He  went  one  evening  in  a  hack- 
nev-coach  with  Georges,  accompanied  by  Lajolais,  and  Picot,  a 
trusty  servant  of  Georges,  to  the  Boulevard  de  la  Madelaine, 
where  Lajolais  alighted,  and  went  to  fetch  General  Moreau  from 
his  house  in  the  Rue  d'Anjou  close  by;  Pichegru  and  Georges 
then  alighted  and  walked  about  with  General  Moreau  fa'  some 
time,  while  Pieot  and  Lajolais  waited  in  the  coach.      As  they  re 

2t 


278  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

turned  to  the  coach.  Gcorges's  servant  heard  Pichegru  observe  to 
his  master,  speaking  of  Moreau — "It  seems  that  fellow  has  ambi- 
tion too  !"  This  account  which  was  at  first  given  by  Picot  was 
confirmed  by  Lajolais.  Georges's  servant  did  not  know  who  La- 
jolais  or  Pichegru  was.  It  came  out  on  the  earliest  examination 
of  Georges's  associates,  that  a  tall,  respectable-looking  man.  whom 
they  did  not  know,  bald  and  of  the  middle  age,  attended  their 
meetings,  that  he  was  received  uncovered,  and  treated  with  the 
greatest  respect.  It  was  conjectured  that  this  must  be  one  of  the 
French  Princes;  and  as  from  the  a::e  it  could  neither  be  the 
Count  d'Artois  nor  the  Duke  of  Berri,  suspicion  fell  upon  the 
Duke  d'Enghien,  who  was  on  the  nearest  frontier,  and  whom 
other  depositions  stated  to  be  busily  occupied  with  similar  trans- 
actions. This  led  to  his  arrest  and  death.  The  mysterious 
stranger  afterwards  turned  out  to  be  Pichegru,  who  was  not 
known  to  Georges's  people,  fr  nn  his  having  been  landed  at  a 
different  period  and  having  come  to  Paris  with  Lajolais  alone. 

In  the  interview  with  .Moreau  above  described,  it  appeared  the 
latter  had  agreed  that  the  first  thing  to  be  done  was  to  remove  the 
First  Consul  ;  that  after  this  something  might  be  done  with  the 
army  :  but  instead  of  wishing  to  restore  the  Bourbons,  lie  talked 
of  bringing  hack  the  Republican  party  and  placing  himself  at  the 

if  it.  This  enraged  Georges,  who  said  'hat  '■  Blue  for  blue* 
he  would  prefer  the  one.  who  was  already  at  the  head  of  the  gov- 
ernment.5' Georges  declared  that  his  plan  was  ripe,  and  that  he 
would  take  off  the  Chief  Consul  bv  such  a  dav  ;  but  he  would 
ordv  do  so  as  a  preliminary  step  to  the  proclaiming  of  Louis 
XYlll.  Moreau  upon  this  hroke  off  the  conference,  and  told 
Pichegru  "he  would  have  no  more  to  do  with  that  brute/"  The 
instinct  of  the  savage  seemed  in  this  instance  truer  than  the  rea- 

gs  of  the  renegade.      \\  hen  qucsti  med  on  the  trial  as  to  the 

■s   of  their    meeting.  G     rges    c   nstantlv  answered — "I 

ri   n't  ki    w  what    vou    mean."  and    Moreau    denied    having   ever 

( ><    irges.      It  was    the   death   of  Pichegru,  whose  evidence 

«\is  wanted   to   prove   i:<js    point,  that   saved    Moreau.      Pichegru 

als"  went  one.'  to  «  e  him  :■'*    his  uwn  house,  and   had    bv  mistake 

opened  the  d  i,,r  of  a  room  full  of  company  :    but  was  recognized 

*  The  Revolutionists  were  called  blues  and  the  R*  valists  rchitts. 


CONSPIRACY  OF  GEORGES,  PICHEGRU,  ETC.  279 


by  Madame  Moreau  just  in  time  to  invent  some  excuse  for  the  ac- 
cident and  to  prevent  his  betraying  himself.  These  delays  and 
disagreements  among  the  parties  concerned  gave  time  for  the  dis 
covery  of  the  extensive  conspiracy  that  had  been  formed  and  made 
it  "  like  a  devilish  engine  hack  recoil  upon  itself."  There  can 
be  no  doubt  that  Moreau  was  privy  and  had  lent  his  countenance 
to  the  design  of  overturning  the  existing  state  of  things  by  the 
death  of  the  First  Consul  ;  but  with  the  nearer  prospect  of  the  re- 
moval of  his  rival,  his  own  ambition  rose  on  the  fancied  ruin  of 
another,  and  his  hesitation  and  lurking  distaste  to  the  Bourbons 
proved  fatal  to  the  whole  scheme.  Moreau  had  not  courage  to 
be  a  usurper;  honesty  to  be  a  patriot;  nor  even  sufficient  loyalty 
to  be  a  traitor  ! 

Pichegru  died  in  prison  by  his  own  hand.  Buonaparte,  when 
he  heard  of  it,  said — "  This  is  a  pretty  end  for  the  conqueror  of 
Holland."  Besides  the  First  Consul's  respect  fir  his  military  tal- 
ents, he  had  been  his  old  tutor  at  Brienne — and  yet,  in  the  rage 
of  heaping  every  kind  of  absurdity  and  atrocity  on  the  character 
of  the  French  ruler,  nothing  would  serve  but  to  charge  him  with 
having  had  Pichegru  dispatched  by  his  orders  in  prison — and  this 
at  the  very  time  when  lie  had  shown  equal  magnanimity  and  mo- 
deration in  pardoning  the  Polignacs  and  letting  Moreau  escape 
contrary  to  his  deserts,  whether  we  consider  his  conduct  at  this 
crisis  or  tl  10  use  lie  made  of  his  liberty  afterwards.  Even  the 
pages  that  still  record  these  acts  of  clemency  are  interlarded  with 
alternate  charges  of  open  and  secret  murder,  as  if  to  let  the  fer- 
ment in  the  lees  of  ancient  prejudice  subside  by  degrees,  and  keep 
up  an  affected  balance  between  calumny  and  candor.  If  Moreau 
had  been  found  dead  in  prison,  something  might  have  been  said 
for  it  ;  for  Moreau  was  set  up  as  a  rival  to  him  and  might  be 
dangerous:  vet  he  relinquished  his  hold  of  this  man  (and  even 
furnished  him  with  the  sums  necessary  for  him  to  repair  to  the 
Fnited  States*)  to  wreak  his  revenge,  as  we  are  told,  upon  one 
who  neither  had  done  nor  could  do  him  harm,  and  whose  life  (if 
he  thirsted  for  it)  was  in  a  course  of  forfeiture  by  the  law.      Is  it 

*  Buonaparte  bought  Moreau's  estate  of  Gros-Bois.  ami  his  bouse  in  the 
Rue  d'Anjnu  ;  he  gave  the  first  to  Berthier  ami  the  last  to  Bernadotte,  in 
whose  hands  it  still  continued  the  focus  of  designs  against  him. 


280  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

nothing  that  Pichcgru  contemplated  this  as  the  end  of  his  careei, 
death  with  infamy,  and  was  willing  to  elude  the  stroke  of  the  law 
by  anticipating  it  ?  Suicide  is  so  far  from  being  improbable  in 
such  circumstances,  that  it  is  judged  necessary  to  remove  from 
felons  and  convicts  the  means  of  self-destruction.  To  say  no 
thing  of  the  remorse  or  sense  of  dishonor  which  Pichegru  migh; 
nave  felt,  he  could  not  have  been  indifferent  to  the  utter  confusion 
and  overthrow  of  schemes  to  which  he  had  sacrificed  everything; 
and  nothing  leads  sooner  to  a  violent  end  than  a  strong  purpose 
defeated.  That  several  things  of  the  same  kind  followed  about 
the  same  time  is  naturally  accounted  for,  from  the  circumstance 
that  at  this  period  of  convulsion  and  civil  strife,  many  persons 
were  placed  in  the  most  trying  situations,  where  their  minds  being 
over-wrought  by  varying  hopes  and  fears,  could  neither  brook 
their  own  blighted  prospects  nor  the  triumph  of  their  adversaries. 
More  convincing  evidence  came  out  against  Pichegru  every  day, 
and  for  some  time  he  had  sought  for  the  consolation  of  books.  He 
was  a  strong  man  and  could  not  have  fallen  without  a  struggle  ; 
his  body  was  publicly  exposed,  and  there  were  no  marks  of  vio- 
lence upon  it  ;  his  death  was  effected  by  petty,  mechanical  means, 
to  which  an  assassin  would  not  have  resorted  ;  Georges  Cadoudal 
lay  in  the  next  room,  who  would  have  heard  any  unusual  stir;  a 
sentinel  was  placed  in  the  outer  passage,  into  which  both  their 
apartments  opened,  and  another  was  stationed  before  Pichegru's 
window  in  the  Temple-garden,  so  that  a  deed  of  this  nature  could 
not  have  been  perpetrated  without  the  knowledge  of  several  per- 
sons, who  would  nut  have  kept  it  long  secret.  However  devoid 
of  probabilitv  or  common  sense,  the  story  strengthened  our  preju- 
dices against  Buonaparte,  and  that  was  sufficient  to  make  it  pass 
current.      It  had  no  other  foundation  whatever. 

Captain  Wright,  while  the  trials  were  pending,  was  ship- 
wrecked on  the  coast  of  Valines,  and  brought  to  the  Temple  with 
s  line  of  his  crew,  when  they  were  recognized  as  the  same 
who  had  bnded  Ge<  rges  and  the  rest  in  Normandy.  Captain 
Wi ight  was  examined  before  the  Court,  but  declined  answering 
anv  questions,  as  it  might  implicate  his  Majesty's  Ministers;  by 
that  alone  implicating  them  in  a  connexion  with  Vendeans  and 
Chouuns    (taken   over  in   vessels    belonging  to  the  Royal  Navy'. 


CONSPIRACY  OF  GEORGES,  PICHEGRU,  ETC.  281 

which  they  always  disclaimed  as  lustily  and  modestly  as  they 
did  all  knowledge  of  Mr.  Drake's  transactions  with  Mehee  de  la 
Touche.  Mr.  Pitt  was  not  a  man  who  would  ever  think  of  plead- 
ing guilty  to  what  could  not  be  proved  against  him,  or  whose 
well-rounded  and  self-conscious  style  did  not  always  leave  him  in 
convenient  possession  of  some  mental  reservation  which  made 
the  practical  truth  or  falsehood  of  the  statement  a  matter  of  per- 
fect indifference.  Captain  Wright  was  detained  not  as  a  spy  (as 
he  might  have  been)  but  as  a  prisoner  of  war,  in  the  hope  that 
he  might  throw  some  light  on  the  degree  of  understanding  be- 
tween the  Vendeans  and  the  English  Government.  He  lingered 
in  the  Temple  till  the  end  of  1805,  when  he  put  an  end  to  his  ex- 
istence (as  it  is  asserted)  after  reading  the  account  of  the  capitu- 
lation of  Mack  at  Ulm.  This  was  when  Buonaparte  was  engaged 
in  the  campaign  of  Austerlitz  ;  and  he  is  accused  of  having  sent 
secret  orders  from  that  field  of  glory,  and  from  a  distance  of  three 
hundred  leagues,  to  despatch  an  obscure  English  Lieutenant,  from 
a  paltry  grudge  he  bore  him  as  the  friend  of  Sir  Sidney  Smith 
and  his  companion  at  the  siege  of  Acre.  Tins  was  grossly  to 
misunderstand  the  character  of  a  man  who  always  proportioned 
his  esteem  for  an  enemy  to  the  valor  he  had  shown,  and  who  had 
a  column  of  wounded  Austrians  drawn  up  before  him,  whom  he 
saluted,  saying,  "Honor  and  respect  to  the  unfortunate  brave !" 
We  attribute  our  own  vindictive  passions  and  narrow  views  to 
others,  and  then  deduce  the  most  villainous  actions  from  motives 
which  exist  only  in  our  own  angry  bosoms  or  morbid  apprehen- 
sions. Buonaparte,  in  fact,  instead  of  being  that  monster  of  cru- 
elty and  revenge  that  our  fears  or  hatred  had  painted  him,  was 
of  too  easv  and  buoyant  a  temperament,  not  mindful  of  his  dan- 
ger, not  straining  his  advantages,  and  relying  too  much  on  his 
own  great  actions  and  the  admiration  of  mankind,  to  the  neglect 
of  those  means  of  safety  to  which  malice  or  cowardice  might 
otherwise  have  prompted  him.* 

*  Palm  is  another  of  the  Saints  and  Martyrs  of  the  new  legitimate  calen- 
dar, who  was  shot  by  order  of  Davoust  fur  instigating  the  inhabitants  of 
the  district  while  under  military  occupation  to  assassinate  the  French  sol- 
diers.    Buonaparte  hardly  knew  of  it;  yet  to  judge  from  the  accounts  eir- 

2-1* 


2S2  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


The  only  instance  in  which  he  struck  a  severe  and  stunning 
blow  was  one  into  which  he  was  led  in  the  outset  by  a  mistake 
and  by  some  studied  management  :  and  which  would  probably 
have  never  come  to  any  tiling  but  for  an  intercepted  letter — I 
mean  the  arrest  and  condemnation  of  the  Duke  d'Enghien.  I 
have  no  wish  to  qualify  that  affair,  nor  do  I  quail  at  its  mention. 
If  it  were  to  do  over  again,  and  I  were  in  Buonaparte's  place,  it 
should  be  done  twice  over.  To  those  who  think  that  persons  of 
Royal  blood  have  a  right  to  shed  your  blood  by  the  most  violent 
and  nefarious  means,  but  that  you  have  no  right  to  transgress  the 
smallest  form  to  defend  yourself,  I  have  nothing  to  say  :  to  others, 
the  question  nearly  decides  itself.  Tins  was  the  third  attempt  to 
assassinate  the  First  Consul  in  the  space  of  two  years  ;  audit 
was  high  time  that  he  should  look  to  himself  and  assert  his  place 
and  manhood,  by  bringing  the  question  to  an  equal  issue  with 
those  who  thought  to  pour  out  his  blood  like  ditch-water  ;  ana 
that  he  must  perforce  (under  the  spell  of  names  and  sacrilegious 
awe)  bare  his  breast  to  the  poignards  of  hired  stabbers  and  des- 
peradoes sent  to  dispatch  him  without  the  possibility  of  retaliating 
en  the  principals.  The  indispensable  bl  >\v  was  struck  :  a  Bour- 
bon fell  ;  thev  found  themselves  vulnerable  through  the  double 
fence  of  pride  and  prejudice  ;  their  dread  of  the  repetition  of  any 
similar  attempt  upon  themselves  was  as  strong  as  their  disregard 
of  every  other  tie  :  and  from  that  time  the  annual  flight  of  these 
bands  of  harpies,  screaming  and  preparing  to  pounce  upon  their 
destined  prey,  ceased.  The  affair  proceeded  (il  is  true)  under  a 
cloud  which  has  never  hern  rightly  cleared  up,  as  to  the  degree 
or  nature  of  the  [hike's  participate  n  in  (leorges's  conspi 
(!:>r  those  who  are  involved  in  such  sinisti  r  trans  ieti<  ns  cannot 
expect  all  the  bein  lit  of  liidit)  :  but  the  sentence  rested  up  m  a 
no  less  !  f;v  though  tiiddv  height  of  justice  and  puliev,  and  vindi- 
cated  itself  bv    the    event.      It    was   contrary   to   forms,   I  grant; 

il  ..  .       nns   had  been  previ   u>ly  and  iv>'  >ri   usly  dispensed  with 
;  .    the    npp  ■-''■■    partv,  and    an    appeal  shami  h  .-sly  made  to  mero 
.  fraud,  and  tern  >r. 
( ii    I'Lfes  was     :'■■.>      . .     wn  to  be  merely  a  principal  instru- 

v a' lat  >■  1.  one  veai1.!   «iip]m.-i'  he  had   s o j  > •  r i : . : e ; .  I . •  •  1   the  execution  in  person, 
and  was  actuated  by  personal  prejudice  against  the  man. 


CONSPIRACY  OF  GEORGES,  P1CHEGRU.  ETC.  283 

meat  in  the  plot,  its  hand,  not  its  head  :  and  the  question  was,  for 
whom  or  in  whose  name  he  would  have  acted  the  day  following 
that  on  which  he  should  have  dispatched  the  First  Consul.  It 
was  naturally  concluded  that  a  more  important  person  was  con- 
cealed somewhere,  and  waiting  for  the  blow  to  be  struck  before 
he  made  himself  known.  Search  was  made  everywhere,  but  in 
vain.  At  length,  two  of  Georges's  people  being  interrogated,  (as 
\vc  have  already  seen,)  declared  that  every  ten  or  twelve  days 
there  came  to  their  master  a  gentleman  whose  name  they  did  not 
know,  about  thirty-four  or  thirty-five  years  of  age,  with  light  hair, 
bald  forehead,  of  a  good  height,  and  rather  corpulent.  They 
stated  that  he  was  always  well  dressed,  and  concluded  him  to  be 
a  person  of  consequence,  as  their  master  always  went  to  the  door 
to  receive  him  ;  when  he  was  in  the  room,  every  body,  Messrs. 
de  Polignac*  and  Riviere  as  well  as  the  others,  rose  and  did  not 
sit  down  again  till  he  had  retired  ;  and  whenever  he  came  to  see 
Georges,  they  went  together  into  a  cabinet,  where  they  remained 
alone  till  he  went  away,  and  then  Georges  attended  him  to  the 
door.  This  afterwards  turned  out  to  be  Pichegru  ;  but  nobody 
suspected  him  at  the  time.  Curiosity  and  anxiety  were  raised  to 
the  highest  pitch  to  learn  who  this  stranger  could  be  whom 
Georges  and  his  accomplices  treated  with  such  respect.  It  was 
imagined  it  could  be  no  other  than  one  of  the  Princes.  The 
search  was  renewed  with  redoubled  ardor,  and  inquiries  set  on 
foot  whether  any  scouring  and  cleaning  were  going  forward  in 
anv  of  the  apartments  with  gilt  ceilings  in  the  hotels  of  the  Marais 
or  the  Fauxbourg  St.  Germain,  which  had  long  been  uninhabited  ; 
but  nothing  was  discovered.  The  description  given  answered 
neither  to  the  age  of  the  Count  d'Artois  nor  with  the  person  of 
the  Duke  of  Bern',  whom,  besides,  Georges's  people  knew.  The 
Duke  d:Angouleme  was  at  Mittau  with  the  Pretender  ;  the  Duke 
of  Bourbon  in  London.  There  remained  only  the  Duke'  d'En- 
ghien ;    and   on   him  the   bolt    fell.      The    First   Consul    scarcely 

*  It  appear*  by  this  that  the  Polignacs  (the  confidential  friends  of  Count 
d'Artois;  were  in  the  constant  habit  of  seeing  Georges  at  his  own  house; 
yet  neither  the  Count  d'Artois  nor  tin?  English  ministry  (it  is  said)  who 
I:  .  1  sent  then  over,  knew  any  thing  of  the  designs  of  this  gang  of  cut-threats* 
ind  banditti  ! 


2S4  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

recollected  the  name  When  it  was  mentioned  ;  but  he  was  known 
to  be  a  prince  of  daring  and  resolution,  not  likely  to  be  inactive 
when  "  the  chase"  of  kingdoms  "  was  a-foot."  He  had  been  for 
some  time  residing  at  Ettenheim,  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Rhine, 
whither  since  the  late  events  numbers  of  emigrants  had  repaired 
daily.  It  was  alleged  that  he  went  every  week  to  the  theatre  at 
Strasburg,  though  he  would  hardly  risk  his  life  without  some  fur- 
ther object  than  a  play  ;  and  it  was  calculated  that  he  could  just 
go  and  come  to  Paris  and  back  again  to  his  place  of  retreo',  in  the 
interval  between  the  appearance  and  re-appearance  of  the  stranger 
who  visited  Georges.  This  coincidence  determined  the  First 
Consul.  He  immediately  signed  and  issued  the  orders  for  the 
seizure  of  the  Duke.  "  This,"  he  said,  "  is  beyond  a  jest.  To 
come  from  Ettenheim  to  Paris  to  plot  an  assassination,  and  to 
fancy  one's-self  safe  because  one  is  behind  the  Rhine!  1  should 
be  a  fool  to  sutler  it."  The  step  was  determined  on  in  a  Council 
where  the  two  other  Consuls,  the  .Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs, 
Fouche,  and  the  Grand-Judge  were  present,  and  where  Camhd- 
ceres  opposed  the  forcible  seizure  in  a  neutral  territory  (that  of 
Baden)  saying  it  would  be  better  to  wait  till  the  Duke  repeated 
bis  alleged  visits  to  the  capital  ;  but  this  objection  was  overruled 
by  Talleyrand. 

A  long  conversation  ensued,  in  which  the  First  Consul  collected 
the  voices  which  had  supported  the  opinion  of  the  Minister  for 
Foreign  Affairs;  and  leaving  the  Council,  went  to  his  cabinet, 
where  he  dictated  the  necessary  orders  to  his  secretary  (Maret.) 
for  the  apprehension  of  the  Duke  d'Fnghien.  The  Minister  at 
War  in  consequence  ordered  General  Ordener  to  go  to  Xew 
Brisae  ;  and  on  his  arrival  there,  with  the  irrivlarmeric  to  be 
placed  at  his  disposal,  and  a  detachment  of  cavalry  belonging  to 
the  (rarrison,  to  cross  the  Rhine  at  the  ferry  of  Rinnan,  to  proceed 
cxpi  ditiouslv  to  the  residence  of  the  Duke  d'Enghien  at  Etten- 
heim, to  take  him  prisoner,*  and  to  send  him  to  Paris  with  all  his 
papers,  in  hopes  of  finding  amongst  them  some  positive  informa- 
ti  in  concerning  his  c  the  present  conspiracy.      The 

order  (which  was  dated  the  10th  of  March)  was  forthwith  punctu- 
allv  executed  ;    and  to  meet  the.   remonstrances  which  the  Elector 

*  The  order  included  Dumourier,  who  was  supposed  to  le  with  him. 


CONSPIRACY  OF  GEORGES,  PICHEGRU,  ETC.         233 

of  Baden  was  likely  to  make,  it  was  briefly  intimated  to  him  by 
Talleyrand  that  he  must  remove  that  band  of  emigrants  which 
had  once  more  made  its  appearance  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine. 

The  Duke  d'Enghien  was  seized  on  the  loth  of  March,  1804, 
and  carried  the  same  day  to  the  citadel  of  Strasburg,  where  he 
remained  till  the  13th,  when  he  set  out  for  Paris  under  the  escort 
of  the  gendarmerie.  There  he  arrived  on  the  20th  of  March 
about  eleven  in  the  forenoon  :  his  carriage,  after  being  detained 
at  the  barrier  till  four  o'clock,  was  driven  by  the  outer  Boule- 
vards to  Vincennes,  where  the  Prince  was  Kept  prisoner.  The 
Commission  appointed  to  try  him  met  that  same  evening.  It  con- 
sisted of  seven  Officers  of  regiments  of  the  garrison  of  Paris,  with 
the  commandant  General  Ilullin  as  their  President,  who  were  no 
otherwise  prejudiced  against  the  prisoner  than  from  the  general 
indignation  which  they  felt  in  common  with  others  against  the 
late  conspiracy  and  all  those  who  might  be  supposed  to  have  in- 
stigated or  to  be  concerned  in  it.  The  Commission  assembled  late 
in  the  evening  'n  one  of  the  large  rooms  of  the  inhabited  part  of 
the  castle,  whic1  was  mostly  in  ruins,  viz.  the  building  over  the 
gate  of  entrance  on  the  side  next  the  park.  The  trial  was  not 
secret,  as  has  bee.i  pretended  ;  it  was  open  to  all  who  could  come 
at  that  hour  of  the  night,  and  Savary,  who  was  there  to  take  com- 
mand of  the  troops,  remarks  that  there  were  many  persons 
present,  as  he  could  with  difficulty  get  through  the  crowd.  He 
had  in  the  morning  received  a  letter  addressed  by  Napoleon  to 
Murat  (the  governor  of  Paris)  who  gave  him  the  necessary  order 
to  collect  the  detachments  of  infantry  and  cavalry  of  the  garrison 
at  Vincennes. 

At  the  time  that  Savary  entered,  the  reading  of  the  examina- 
tion was  finished  :  the  discussion  upon  it  had  begun  and  was  very 
warm.  The  Duke  d'Enghien  had  already  answered  so  sharply 
that  it  was  clear  he  had  no  notion  of  the  danger  in  which  he 
stood.  "Sir,"  said  the  President  to  him,  "  you  seem  not  to  be 
aware  of  your  situation  :  or  you  are  determined  not  to  answer  the 
questions  which  I  put  to  you.  You  shut  yourself  up  in  your  high 
birth,  of  which  you  take  good  care  to  remind  us;  you  had  better 
adopt  a  diri'erent  line  of  defence.  I  will  not  take  an  undue  advan- 
tage of  your  situation,  but  observe  that  I  ask    you  positive  ques- 


LIFE   OF    NAPOLEON. 


tians,  and  that  instead  of  answering,  you  talk  to  me  about  some- 
thing else.  Take  care,  this  might  become  serious.  How  could 
you  hope  to  persuade  us  that  you  were  so  completely  ignorant  as 
you  pretend  to  be  of  what  was  passing  in  France,  when  not  only 
the  country  in  which  you  resided,  but  the  whole  world  is  inform- 
ed of  it  1  And  how  could  you  persuade  me  that  with  your  birth 
you  were  indifferent  to  events,  all  the  consequences  of  which 
were  to  he  in  your  favor  ?  There  is  too  much  improbability  in 
this  for  me  to  pass  it  over  without  observation:  I  beg  you  to  reflect 
up  >n  it,  t.'iat  you  may  have  recourse  to  other  means  of  defence." 
Tiie  Duke'  d;Enghien  replied  in  a  grave  tone,  -Sir,  I  perfectly 
comprehend  you  :  it  was  not  my  intention  to  have  remained  in- 
different to  them.  I  had  applied  to  England  for  an  appointment 
in  her  armies,  and  she  had  returned  for  answer  that  she  had  none 
to  give  me,  but  that  I  was  to  remain  upon  the  Rhine,  where  I 
should  soon  have  a  part  to  act,  and  fur  that  I  was  waiting.  I 
have  nothing  more  to  tell  you,  Sir/' 

The  Duke  d'Enghien  was  tried  and  found  guilty  of  the  three 
several  charges  preferred  against  him;  1.  of  having  served  in 
the  armies  of  the  Prince  de  Conde  (his  grandfather)  and  other 
foreign  corps  against  France';  'J.  of  having  been  and  being  still 
in  the  pay  of  England  ;  '3.  of  being  privy  to  and  waiting  to  avail 
himself  of  the  success  of  the  present  conspiracy  against  the  gov- 
ernment and  th"  life  of  the  First  Consul.  The  two  first  were 
proved  by  his  confe.-sion,  and  wvvc  indeed  notorious  :  of  the  third 
and  last  charge,  though  nothing  showed  the  contrary,  there  was 
not  suliieient  proof;  and  indeed  the  chief  ground  on  which  it  bad 
rested  fell  to  the  ground  when  it  was  discovered  soon  after  that 
the  indi  ho  visited    ( Je<  rges.  and  who  had  been    imagined 

to  b  ■  th"    Prince,  was    Pichcgni.      pelbre   signing  the    paper  con- 
taiuiiig  his  sentence.  he  eann  -:1\    re<j  .•  .•■  d  an  interview  wii 
I-'i ist  (J  hi sul  ;    a  letter   bad    been    previously  transmitted    from  the 
Duke  which  was   not  received  till  afb  r  bis   death.      His  sentence 


w  is    carried     in*  i    e\i  eu'i  .n     ;i  ni  >st     immediate]  v     after    it    was 
na>>.-  i  ;    he  was   -':,  it    i:i  '  .      i  b  at  \  incennes,  about   six 

in  tin:  in  irning    if  th'    '.'  1  -' . 

Tiicre    appears   :>  •,    something    mv-t"rious,   hurried, 

and  as  it  were  \>\  in  t  ,"  mann'  r  of  his  death.      It  is  not 


CONSPIRACY  OF  GEORGES,  PICHEGRU,  ETC.  JV.  ! 

improbable  that  Buonaparte  would  have  pardoned  him,  wl  haj 
received  his  letter  in  time  ;  or  had  care  been  taken  to  infon  1  him 
of  the  exact  circumstances  of  the  case.  It  is  certain  thai  the 
seizure  of  his  person  had  been  made  under  a  strong  impression 
that  he  was  an  active  and  prime-mover  in  the  meetings  and  plans 
of  the  Chouans  for  taking  the  First  Consul's  life  :  and  had  this 
been  proved  to  be  the  case,  assuredly  not  twenty  neutralities  of 
Baden  nor  his  being  twenty  times  a  Bourbon  ought  to  have 
screened  or  saved  him.  Otherwise,  a  robber  is  safe  who  has 
escaped  into  a  neighbor's  garden  ;  or  if  I  see  an  assassin  aiming 
at  me  from  an  opposite  window,  I  am  not  to  fire  at  him  lest  I 
should  damage  my  neighbor's  house.  It  is  the  more  probable 
that  an  active  and  important  share  in  the  conspiracy  (supposing 
the  first  stop  to  have  succeeded)  was  allotted  to  him,  because  the 
Duke  of  Berri  was  expected  to  land  with  Georges's  crew  just 
before,  and  the  same  fate  was  prepared  for  him.  But  what  in 
the  former  case  was  a  dictate  of  natural  and  universal  justice 
superior  to  forms  or  calculations,  became  without  this  a  matter 
of  state-policy  and  hard  necessity.  If  the  Duke  had  merely 
served  in  the  former  wars  against  France,  that  was  an  old  story  ; 
or  if  he  was  about  to  engage  in  new  attempts  upon  her  soil,  and 
these  were  to  be  carried  on  by  the  regular  and  approved  modes 
of  warfare,  then  there  would  have  been  no  sufficient  ground  for 
Buonaparte  to  go  out  of  his  way  to  seek  satisfaction  from  an 
enemy  whom  he  could  meet  on  equal  and  honorable  terms  else- 
where. But  the  persons  with  whom  the  Duke  was  confessedly 
still  in  league  resorted  to  other  means  than  those  of  open  hostility, 
and  he  had  no  method  of  defending  himself  against  them,  or  of 
wresting  these  unfair  weapons  from  their  hands,  but  by  making 
reprisals  and  setting  a  dreadful  example  to  show  that  such  un- 
principled conduct  would  come  home  to  themselves.  Not  to  re- 
taliate when  he  could  was  to  encourage  them  and  give  them  im- 
punity in  the  foulest  practices  ;  he  had  a  hostage  within  his 
reach  and  in  his  hands,  and  to  make  him  pay  the  forfeit  of  in- 
sulted honor  and  faith  and  restore  in  so  far  the  balance  of  both, 
was  not  a  murder  but  a  sacrifice.  The  Duke  was  of  illustrious 
blood,  it  is  true,  or  he  would  not  have  been  a  Bourbon  ;  he  was 
said  to  be  gallant  and  brave,  but  he  was  connected  by  a  common 


iS8  LIFE  OF   NAPOLEON. 


cause  and  by  the  ties  of  near  relationship  with  those  who  did  no* 
scruple  to  call  the  bandit  and  the  assassin  to  their  aid  :  the  blow 
was  not  aimed  at  him,  but  at  pretensions  which  assumed  a  haughty 
paramountship  to  the  laws  both  of  nature  and  nations  ;  and  though 
the  example  might  be  a  lamentable  one,  yet  the  guilt  did  not  lie 
at  the  door  of  those  who  exacted  the  penalty,  but  of  his  own  party, 
who  had  rendered  it  necessary  by  keeping  no  measures  with  those 
whom  they  chose  to  regard  as  outlaws  and  rebels.  Y\  hy,  if  the 
Prince  knew  nothing  of  the  secret  machinations  that  were  going 
on,  or  was  not  ready  to  avail  himself  of  the  catastrophe,  was  he 
found  hovering  on  the  borders,  as  it  were  dallying  with  tempta- 
tion and  danger  ?  It  will  be  said  that  it  was  a  natural  yearning 
to  be  near  his  native  soil,  as  some  have  returned  from  banish- 
ment to  lay  down  their  heads  on  the  block  from  an  unutterable 
fondness  for  the  place  of  their  birth.  It  may  be  answered  that 
the  same  desire  to  be  near  his  country  at  the  risk  of  his  life  might 
make  him  willing  to  return  to  it  with  the  loss  of  personal  honor 
as  well  as  of  his  country's  independence.  The  question  seems  to 
lie  in  a  small  compass  and  may  be  made  clearer  by  being  brought 
back  to  ourselves.  A  man  is  found  lurking  near  a  house  while 
a  gang  of  robbers,  of  whom  he  is  one  of  the  chiefs,  enter  it  by 
stealth  and  are  proceeding  to  murder  the  inmates.  What  does 
he  dc  there  ?  Is  his  saying  that  he  is  a  gentleman  by  birth,  bold, 
or  thru  he  disapproves  entirely  of  what  is  passing,  to  shelter  him  ? 
Or  is  his  having  escaped  into  the  adjoining  premises  to  make  him 
safe  from  pursuit  I  If  1  am  attacked  by  main  force,  it  is  said  I 
must  appeal  to  the  law;  but  if  the  law  is  not  at  hand  to  protect 
me,  1  take  it  into  my  own  hands,  and  shoot  a  highwayman 
or  housebreaker.  Lastly,  in  all  cases  of  reprisal,  it  is  not  the 
individual  who  is  culpable  or  supposed  to  approve  the  original 
provocation  ;  but  he  is  made  answerable  for  his  party  as  the  only 
wav  of  putting  a  stop  to  the  continuance  of  some  flagrant  injus- 
tice. There  was  an  objection  t'>  the  mixture  of  violence  and  law 
in  the  case,  which  gave  a  doubtful  complexion  to  it;  but  the 
trial  was  of  little  other  use  than  to  identify  the  prisoner  and  take 
the  public  responsibility  of  the  act.  It  was  an  extreme  and  delib- 
erate exercise  of  a  vigor  beyond  the  law.  It  should  be  remera. 
Dered  also  that  this  example  was  made  while  die  examination  of 


CONSPIRACY  OF  GEORGES.  PICHEGRU,  ETC.  2S9 

the  conspirators  was  pending,  and  while  the  chiefs  of  the  plot. 
Georges  and  Pichegru,  were  yet  undiscovered.  Terror  and 
doubt  hung  over  the  decision  ;  nor  is  it  improbable  that  the  dis- 
may it  excited  and  the  energy  it  displayed  prevented  the  blow 
which  Buonaparte  directed  against  the  Duke  d'Enghien  from  fall 
ii.g  on  his  own  head. 

The  death  of  the  Duke  d'Enghien  caused  a  great  sensation  in 
Paris  and  Europe.  Though  it  might  require  strength  of  mind 
and  iron  nerves  to  withstand  the  first  shock  and  the  long-con- 
tinued reverberations  of  calumny  and  misrepresentation,  yet  this 
was  so  far  from  being  a  reason  against  the  measure,  that  it  was 
its  main  object  to  dispel  that  very  prejudice  on  which  this  outcry 
was  founded,  and  which  did  not  arise  because  the  blood  of  a 
Prince  had  been  shed  unjustly,  but  because  the  blood  of  a  Prince 
had  been  shed.  It  was  necessary  to  "  make  these  odds  even"  in 
the  struggle  which  was  at  issue,  or  to  give  it  up  altogether.  It 
was  one  among  the  few  answers  which  have  been  given  to  th 
idle  and  insolent  pretension  that  the  blood  of  common  men 
puddle,  and  that  of  nobles  and  princes  a  richer  flood,  which  can- 
not be  weighed  against  the  former  any  more  than  wine  agaif- 
water.  Those  who  were  principally  interested  in  holding  i^ 
this  distinction,  and  had  till  now  acted  upon  it  to  the  most  unlim 
ited  extent,  finding  it  no  longer  avail  them,  took  the  hint  anw 
were  more  cautious  in  guarding  so  precious  a  deposit  from  being 
let  out  from  noble  veins.  The  Emperor  Alexander,  fimont, 
others,  assumed  a  lofty  tone  on  the  occasion,  which  was  brought 
down  by  Talleyrand's  asking  him  in  an  official  note,  "  Whether 
if  a  set  of  English  assassins  had  been  hired  to  effect  his  father's 
:leath,  the  Russian  Cabinet  would  not  have  thought  itself  audio* 
lzed  to  seize  and  punish  them  though  they  had  been  lurking  four 
leagues  from  the  Russian  territory  V  This  home-thrust  was 
never  parried  either  by  Alexander  or  by  the  standing  retainers 
on  that  side  of  the  question.  Finally,  let  us  hear  what  Buona- 
parte hiniself  says  on  the  point.  The  following  appeal  is  frank 
and  cogent. 

■•  If  I  iiad  not  had  in  mv  favor  the  laws  of  my  country  to  pun- 
ish the  culprit,  I  should  still  have  had  the  right  of  the  law  of  na- 
ture, of  legitimate  self-defence.      The    Duke    and    his   party  had 

VOL.   IT.  14  2.5 


■i'iQ  LIFE   OF   XAPOLEOX 


constantly  but  one  object  in  view,  that  of  taking  away  my  life  :  I 
was  assailed  on  all  sides  and  at  every  instant  ;  air-guns,  infernal 
machines,  plots,  ambuscades  of  every  kind,  were  resorted  to  for 
that  purpose.  At  last  I  grew  weary  and  took  an  opportunity  of 
striking  them  with  terror  in  their  turn  in  London  ;  I  succeeded, 
and  from  that  moment  there  was  an  end  to  all  conspiracies.  Who 
can  blame  me  for  having  acted  so  ?  What  !  Blows  threatening 
my  existence  are  aimed  at  me  day  after  day,  from  a  distance  of 
one  hundred  and  fifty  leagues  ;  no  power  on  earth,  no  tribunal 
can  afford  me  redress  ;  and  I  am  not  to  be  allowed  to  use  the 
right  of  nature  and  return  war  for  war  !  What  man,  unbiassed 
by  party-feeling,  possessing  the  smallest  share  of  judgment  or 
justice,  can  take  upon  him  to  condemn  me  ?  On  what  side  will 
he  not  throw  blame,  odium,  and  criminal  accusations  ?  Blood  for 
blood  ;  such  is  the  natural,  the  inevitable,  and  infallible  law  of 
retaliation  :  woe  to  him  who  provokes  it  !  Those  who  foment 
civil  dissensions pv  excite  political  emotions  expose  themselves  to 
become  the  victims  of  them.  It  would  bo  a  pr  i  if  of  imbecility 
or  madness  to  imagine  and  pretend  that  a  whole  family  should 
have  the  strange  privilege  to  threaten  my  existence,  day  after 
day,  without  giving  me  the  right  of  retaliation;  they  could  not 
reasonably  protend  to  bo  above  til''  law  to  destroy  others,  and 
claim  the  benefit  of  it  fa-  their  own  preservation  :  the  chances 
must  be  equal.  I  had  never  personally  •  trended  any  of  them  ;  a 
great  nation  had  chosen  mo  to  govern  them;  almost  all  Eur  pe 
had  sanctioned  their  choice  :  my  blood,  after  all.  was  not  ditch- 
wat^r;  it  wa-  time  to  place  it  on  a  par  with  theirs.  And  what 
if  I  had  carrii  i  i'i  taliatii  m  further  ?  1  uiiirhl  1  v.  e  d  o  t  :  the 
al  of  their  destiny,  the  heads  of  every  one  of  them,  fro  in 
the  highest  to  the  lowest,  were  more  than  once  off-rod  me  ;  but  1 
posal    w i lb   i i  \    •    • ' .  . •    1    1 1 1   u g ht  it 

•   fir  me   to   consent  to  it  in  the  situation   to   which 
they  had  reduced  me  ;  but  1   frit  so  p  iwerful,  I  thought  myself  so 
;re,  i     it  I  hi,     ild  -  .        t  base  and  g  rat u it  nis  a<  t 

f  e    ■'■  a rd ice.       Mv  gr«'iii    maxim  i\>  h   ■  :i  that  in  war  as 


Cali 


a  ei  immal. 


;   in    politics,   every  evil  action,  even    if  legal,  can   only  be 
d  in  case  of  absolute  necessity;  whatever  goes  bevond  that 


CONSPIRACY  OF  GEORGES.  PICHEGRIT,  ETC.  2S1 


"  It  would  have  been  ridiculous  in  those  who  violated  so  openly 
tne  law  of  nations,  to  appeal  to  it  themselves.  The  violation  of 
the  territory  of  Baden,  of  which  so  much  has  been  said,  is  en- 
tirely foreign  to  the  main  point  of  the  question.  The  law  of  the 
inviolability  of  territory  has  not  been  devised  for  the  benefit  of 
the  guilty,  but  merely  for  the  preservation  of  the  independence 
of  nations  and  of  the  dignity  of  the  sovereign.  It  was  therefore 
for  the  Elector  of  Baden,  and  for  him  alone,  to  complain,  and  lie 
did  not  ;  he  yielded,  no  doubt,  to  violence  and  to  the  sense  of  his 
political  inferiority  ;  but  even  then,  what  has  that  to  do  with  the 
merits  of  the  plots  and  outrages  of  which  I  had  been  the  object, 
and  of  which  1  had  every  right  to  be  revenged?"  And  he  con- 
cluded that  the  real  authors  of  the  painful  catastrophe,  the  per- 
sons who  alone  were  responsible  for  it,  were  those  who  had 
favored  and  excited  from  abroad  the  plots  formed  against  the  life 
of  the  First  Consul.  For,  said  he,  either  they  had  implicated  the 
unfortunate  Prince  in  them,  and  had  thus  scaled  his  doom;  or  by 
neglecting  to  give  him  information  of  what  was  goinn  forward, 
they  had  suffered  him  to  slumber  imprudently  on  the  brink  of  the 
precipice,  and  to  be  so  near  the  frontiers  at  the  moment  when  so 
great  a  blow  was  going  to  be  struck  in  the  name  and  for  the  in- 
terest of  his  family. 

"  To  us,  in  the  intimacy  of  private  conversation,  the  Emperor 
would  say,  that  the  blame  in  France  might  be  ascribed  to  an  ex- 
cess of  zeal  in  those  who  surrounded  him,  or  to  dark  intrigues  or 
private  views  ;  that  ho  had  been  precipitately  urged  on  in  the 
affair;  that  they  had  as  it  were  taken  his  mind  unawares,  and 
that  his  measures  had  been  hastened  and  their  result  anticipated. 
I  was  one  dav  alone,  said  he  ;  I  recollect  it  well  ;  I  was  taking 
mv  coffee,  half-seated  on  the  table  on  which.  I  had  just  dined  ; 
when  sudden  information  is  brought  me  that  a  new  conspiracy  is 
discovered.  I  am  warmly  urged  to  put  an  end  to  these  enormi- 
ties ;  they  represent  to  me  that  it  is  time  at  hist  to  give  a  lesson 
to  those  who  have  been  day  by  day  conspiring  against  my  lite  ; 
that  this  end  can  only  be  attained  by  shedding  the  blood  of  one 
of  them  ;  and  that  the  Duke  d'Enghien,  who  might  now  be  con- 
victed of  forming  part  of  this  new  conspiracy,  and  taken  in  the 
very  act,  should  !  e  that  one.    k  was  added  thai  lie  had  been  seen 


292  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

at  Strasburg;  that  it  was  even  believed  that  he  had  been  in  Paris; 
and  that  the  plan  was  that  he  should  enter  France  by  the  East, 
at  the  moment  of  the  explosion,  while  the  Duke  de  Berri  was 
disembarking  in  the  West.  I  should  tell  you,  observed  the  Em- 
peror, that  I  did  not  even  know  precisely  who  the  Duke  d'Enghien 
was  (the  Revolution  having  broken  out  when  1  was  yet  a  very 
young  man,  and  I  having  never  been  at  court)  ;  and  that  I  was 
quite  in  the  dark  as  to  where  he  was  at  that  moment.  Having 
been  informed  on  these  points,  I  exclaimed,  that  if  such  was  the 
case,  the  Duke  ought  to  be  arrested,  and  that  orders  should  be 
given  to  that  effect.  Everything  had  been  foreseen  and  pre- 
pared ::':  the  different  orders  were  already  drawn  up,  nothing  re- 
mained but  to  sign  them,  and  the  fate  of  the  young  Prince  was 
thus  decided.  He  had  been  residing  for  some  time  past,  at  a  dis- 
tance of  about  three  leagues  from  the  Rhine,  in  the  States  of 
Baden.  Had  I  been  sooner  aware  of  this  fact,  and  of  its  impor- 
tance, I  should  have  taken  umbrage  at  it,  and  should  not  have 
suffered  the  Prince  to  remain  so  near  the  frontiers  of  France  ;  and 
that  circumstance,  had  it  happened,  would  have  saved  his  life. 
As  for  the  assertions  that  were  advanced  at  the  time,  that  1  had 
been  strenuously  opposed  in  this  affair,  and  that  numerous  solici- 
tations had  been  made  to  me,  they  are  utterly  false,  and  were 
onlv  invented  to  make  me  appear  in  a  more  odious  light.  The 
same  thing  may  be  said  of  the  various  motives  that  have  been 
ascribed  to  me;  these  motives  may  have  existed  in  the  bosoms 
of  those  who  acted  an  inferior  part  on  that  occasion  and  may 
have  !_ruided  them  in  their  private  views  ;  but  my  conduct  was 
influenced  only  by  the  nature  of  the  fact  itself  and  the  er.er<£v 
of  iii v  disposition.  I  nd  mbtedly,  if  1  had  boon  iufbrmed  in  time 
of  certain  circumstances  respecting  the  opinions  of  the  Prince 
and  his  disposition,  if.  above  all.  1  had  seen  the  letter  which  he 
to  ni".  and  which.  'I  d  kn  nvs  fbr  what  reason,  was  onlv 
delivered  to  me  after  his  (bath.  1  should  certainly  have  forgiven 
him.  It  wns  easv  for  us  to  pi  reave  that  these  expressions  of 
i  ■■  I '.  ,,o  on-  were  dictated  b\  Ins  hi  irt  and  by  natural  feeling, 
a.d  'hat  tlifv  were  only  intended  ibr  us  ;  fbr  he  would  have  felt 
h'm.-mf  much  humbled,  had  he  supposed  that  anv  bodv  could 
*  This  account  differ-  a  '.'.::'.•■  i'miu  Js'avarv'^.  snven  above. 


CONSPIRACY  OF  GEORGES,  P1CIIEGRU,  ETC.  293 

think  for  a  moment  that  he  endeavored  to  shift  the  blame  upon 
some  other  person  ;  or  that  he  condescended  to  justify  himself. 
And  this  feeling  was  carried  so  far  that  when  he  was  speaking  to 
strangers  or  dictating  on  that  subject  for  the  public  eye,  he  con- 
fined himself  to  saying  that  if  he  had  seen  the  Prince's  letter,  he 
should  perhaps  have  forgiven  him  on  account  of  the  great  polit- 
ical advantages  that  he  might  have  derived  from  so  doing;  and  in 
tracing  with  his  own  hand  his  last  thoughts  which  he  concluded 
will  he  recorded  in  the  present  age  and  reach  posterity,  he  still 
pronounces  on  the  subject,  which  he  is  aware  will  be  considered 
as  the  most  delicate  for  his  memory,  that  if  he  were  again  placed 
in  the  same  circumstances,  he  should  again  act  in  the  same  man- 
ner !  Such  was  the  man,  such  the  stamp  of  his  mind  and  the 
turn  of  his  disposition. 

"  Napoleon  one  day  said  to  me,  with  reference  to  the  same 
subject,  '  If  I  occasioned  a  general  consternation  by  that  melan- 
choly event,  what  an  universal  feeling  of  horror  would  have  been 
produced  by  another  spectacle  with  which  1  might  have  surprised 

the    world  ! I    have   frequently  been   offered  the 

lives  of  those  whose  place  I  filled  on  the  throne,  at  the  price  of 
one  million  a  head.  They  were  seen  to  be  my  competitors,  and 
it  was  supposed  that  I  thirsted  after  their  blood  ;  but  even  if  my 
disposition  had  been  different  from  what  it  was,  had  I  been  formed 
to  commit  crimes,  1  should  have  repelled  all  thoughts  of  the  crime 
thus  proposed  to  me  as  seeming  altogether  gratuitous.  I  was  then 
so  powerful,  so  firmly  seated  ;  and  they  seemed  so  little  to  be 
feared  !  Revert  to  the  periods  of  Tilsit  and  Wagram  ;  to  my 
marriage  with  Maria  Louisa;  to  the  state  and  attitude  of  Europe  ! 
However,  in  the  midst  of  the  crisis  of  the  affairs  of  Georges  and 
Pichegru,  when  I  was  assailed  by  murderers,  the  moment  was 
thought  favorable  to  tempt  me,  and  the  oiler  was  renewed,  having 
for  its  object  the  individual,  whom  public  opinion  in  England  as 
well  a*,  in  France  pointed  out.  as  the  chief  mover  of  all  these 
horrible  conspiracies.  1  was  at  Boulogne,  where  the  bearer  of 
these  offers  arrived  :  I  took  it  into  my  head  to  ascertain  personally 
the  truth  and  the  nature  of  the  proposal.  1  ordered  him  to  bo 
brought  before  me — '  Well,  sir  !'  said  I,  when  he  appeared. — 
'  Yes,  First  Consul,  we  will  give  him  up  to  you  for  one  million.' 

2;>  * 


294  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 

— '  Sir.  I  will  give  you  two  millions  ;  but  on  condition  that  you 
will  bring  him  alive.' — 'Ah  !  that  I  could  not  promise,'  said  the 
man  hesitating,  and  much  disconcerted  at  the  tone  of  my  voice 
and  the  expression  of  my  looks  at  that  moment. — •!)•>  you  then 
take  me  fur  a  mere  assassin  ?  Know,  Sir,  that  though  1  may 
think  it  necessary  to  inflict  a  punishment  or  make  a  great  exam- 
ple, I  am  not  disposed  to  encourage  the  perfidy  of  an  ambus 
cade  :'  and  I  drove  him  from  my  presence.  Indeed  his  mere 
presence  was  already  too  great  a  contamination/' — Las  Cases, 
vol.  iv.,  p.  "2~i~. 

Such  were  the  real  sentiments  and  line  of  conduct  held  by  one 
who  has  been  accused  of  nourishing  a  thirst  for  the  blood  of  this 
unfortunate  race,  from  the  time  that  one  of  them  refused  (in 
answer  to  a  pri  tended  proposal  to  that  effect)  to  waive  their 
hereditary  claims  upon  the  throne  of  France  : — a  contrary  sup- 
position is  more  likely  that  his  life  was  aimed  at  from  the  moment 
he  had  declined,  in  answer  to  a  formal  application  to  that  effect, 
to  proclaim  Louis  XVIII.  as  king.  Talleyrand  is  roundly  ac- 
cused by  Buonaparte  and  others  of  having  instigated  the  designs 
again.-*;  the  Bourb  >ns,  and  particularly  of  having  had  a  principal 
hand  in  the  seizure  of  the  Duke  d'Enghien  and  the  holding  back 
of  his  letter  to  the  First  Consul,  from  a  desire  to  embroil  him 
fatally  wiiii  that  family,  whose  return  Talleyrand  dreaded,  lie 
was  met  bv  Savary  the  morning  of  the  Duke's  arrival  earlier 
than  usual  goin^  to  inform  Buonaparte  of  the  circumstance  ;  and 
again  he  stumbled  up  m  him  the  same  evening  coming  out  of 
Murat's  door.  IVwsibly  i;  had  been  discovered  while  the  Prince 
was  detained  in  his  carriage  at  the  harrier  that  he  was  nut 
Geonjcs's  visitor:  and  the  trial  hail  been  bunded  forward  to  pre- 
vent the  chance  of  Buonaparte's  relenting,  when  this  particular 
should  become  known.  Talleyrand  is  at  present  desirous  of 
having  the  matter  hushed  up.  or  i  f  ex  nerating  himself  bv  cast- 
inir  a  d  ublo  limn  >n  thers.  !1  need  not  be  alarmed,  lie 
would  so'. nor  be  forgiven  for  having  been  accessorv  to  the  death 
of  twentv  B  airbons  than  for  having  spared  the  life  of  one  id' them 
when  in  his  power.  He  never  made  royalty  look  little  by  great 
actions  or  elevated  views  ;  and  that  is  the  onlv  crime  which 
■  ourts  never  pass  over  ! 


CONSPIRACY  OF  GEORGES,  PICHEGRU,  ETC.  294 


Buonaparte  has  himself  chalked  out  the  best  line  of  conduct 
for  him  on  this  occasion,  and  which  would  have  left  no  rubs  or 
flaws  in  the  work.  "  If  I  had  acted  right,"  he  has  been  heard  to 
say,  ••  I  should  have  followed  the  example  of  Cromwell,  who  on  the 
discovery  of  the  first  attempt  made  to  assassinate  him,  the  plot 
of  which  had  been  hatched  in  France,  caused  it  to  be  signified  to 
the  French  king,  that  if  the  like  occurred  again,  he,  by  way  of 
reprisal,  would  order  assassins  to  be  lured  to  murder  him  and  a 
Smart.  Now  I  ought  to  have  publicly  signified  that  on  the  next 
aitempt  at  assassination,  I  would  cause  the  same  to  be  made  upon 
the  Bourbon  princes,  to  accomplish  which  last  indeed  I  had  only 
to  say  that  I  would  not  punish  the  projectors/'  This  bluff,  down- 
right, plain-spoken  Rowland  for  an  Oliver  of  old  Noll's  was  after 
all  the  best  and  safest  footing  to  put  the  question  upon,  free  from 
tdl  affectation  of  legal  forms  or  diplomatic  jinesse,  which  in  such 
circumstances  give  either  a  false  bias  or  prove  impediments  in 
the  course  of  even-handed  justice. 


TV 


296  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


CHAPTER    XXXIY. 

THE    ESTABLISHMENT    OF    THE    EMPIRE. 

There  is  something  in  the  form  of  monarchy  that  seems  vastly 
adapted  to  the  constitution  and  weaknesses  of  human  nature.  It 
as  it  were  puts  a  stop  by  a  specific  barrier  to  the  tormenting 
strife  and  restless  importunity  of  the  passions  in  individuals,  and 
at  the  same  time  happily  discharges  the  understanding  of  all  the 
labors  and  turmoil  of  its  concern  for  the  public  good.  The 
crown,  the  emblem  of  precedence  and  sovereignty,  for  which  all 
are  contending,  is  snatched  ,-Vom  the  reach  of  all  to  be  placed  on 
the  brow  of  a  baby  vet  unborn  ;  the  troublesome  differences  of 
right  and  wrong,  which  produce  such  infinite  agitation  of  opinion 
and  convulse  the  bosom  of  states,  are  set  at  rest  by  the  maxim 
that  the  king  can  do  no  wrong;  and  a  [tower  whose  origin  is 
lost  in  the  distance  of  time  and  that  acts  upon  no  other  warrant 
than  its  own  will,  seems  in  a  manner  self-existent,  and  baffles 
alike  resistance  or  censure.  Once  substitute  the  lineal  distinc- 
tions  of  legit  imacv  and  illegitimacy  fir  these  of  rhrht  and  wr  ing  : 
and  the  world,  instead  of  being  turned  upside  down,  runs  on  in  a 
smooth  and  invariable  course.  That  a  thinir  is,  is  much  easier 
to  determine  than  whether  //  is  geo'/  or  bad  ;  and  the  first  ques- 
tion is  the  nnlv  one  at  stake  in  a  m  >narchy  ;  it  is  the  last  i 
alwavs  pen  iiiiir    in  r  .  I     it    makes  them    -  i  difficult 

of  establishment  and  so  S'>;ii  unhinges  them.  Lr  Hoi  7r  rnit 
stops  all  nr  nit hs  :  and  if  we  only  admit  that  whatever  is.  is  riim-. 
there  is  iMihinir  more  i  >  be  done,  neither  n-,,,,,1  nor  harm  ;  tli  \\\<j;\\ 
there  niav  be  a  urea  I        latter  1     ]><•  suff  red.      A  i 

a  pre j m iice.  a.  custom   aie  things  :   the   inquiry  after 

truth  and  ^  -  ■■  1  is  ••  1  ■:;:'.  ■•  '  .  ■.  nd  inlini:  ■>.''  It'  a  ray  of 
lie-;:*  break.,  in  ntion  it.  it  d  -  -  :.  '  p  -m  t rate  the  mass  of  ignorance 
and  follv  :   or  it'  liie  |]  m.e     :'  ][],   rtv  is  km  bed.  it  is  extinguishe."? 


THE   ESTABLISHMENT   OF   THE   EMPIRE.  297 

by  the  sword.  A  hundred  freemen  only  differ  with  and  defeat 
one  another  ;  ninety-nine  slaves  follow  one  tyrant,  and  act  all 
together.  Whatever  is  great  and  good  is  seated  on  a  steep  asr 
cent  ;  the  base  and  selfish  is  placed  on  an  inclined  plane  below.  If 
in  this  disadvantage  of  the  ground  on  which  the  cause  of  improve- 
ment and  emancipation  rests,  we  can  keep  it  suspended  half-way 
down  or  from  being  precipitated  with  scorn  and  loud  imprecations 
into  the  abyss,  it  is  doing  something. 

Let  any  one  look  at  those  four  men  in  the  last  chapter,  the  first 
of  them  one  of  the  earliest  defenders  and  earliest  betrayers  of  the 
Republic,  the  second  who  had  formerly  denounced  him  now 
courted  by  him  to  league  with  a  third,  an  assassin,  outlaw,  and 
desperado  in  the  Royal  cause,  whose  ignorance  and  incapacity  to 
conceive  of  any  thing  else  made  him  true  to  his  first  engage- 
ments, against  a  fourth  who  excited  the  envy  and  resentment  of 
the  two  first  for  having  outstripped  them  in  the  career  of  popu- 
larity and  power,  and  was  obnoxious  to  the  hatred  and  vengeance 
of  the  third  for  being  a  main  obstacle  to  the  return  of  the  Bour- 
bons. And  then  I  would  ask,  in  this  state  of  things,  when  rea- 
son and  patriotism  was  divided  against  itself  and  torn  in  a  thou- 
sand pieces,  when  the  blindfold  and  furious  bigot  was  alone  faith- 
ful, and  when  the  great  principle  of  the  Revolution  found  its 
firmest  support  and  most  unflinching  ally  in  personal  aggrandize- 
ment and  soaring  ambition,  that  preferred  grasping  at  the  supreme 
authority  itself  sooner  than  let  it  revert  into  the  old,  impure  chan- 
nels :  I  would  ask  in  this  state  of  things  what  better  could  be  hoped 
bv  the  most  sanguine  than  to  gain  time,  to  hurl  back  and  set  at 
defiance  to  the  uttermost  that  abomination  of  abominations,  the 
evils  of  an  endless  struggle  with  which  had  almost  made  the 
tiling  itself  seem  endurable,  and  to  make  a  drawn  battle  for  the 
present,  a  compromise  between  the  establishment  of  a  great  prin- 
ciple in  theory  and  the  imperfect  adherence  to  it  in  practice  ? 
Those  who  are  most  sincerely  and  unalterably  attached  to  the 
rule  will  not  be  most  apt  to  take  umbrage  at  the  departure  from 
it,  for  still  it  was  in  the  nature  of  an  exception,  and  not  the  ad- 
mission of  the  opposite  doctrine.  "  Entire  affection  scorneth 
nicer  hands."  Mr.  Landor,  whom  I  conceive  to  be  capable  of  all 
.he    fervor   and  steadiness  of  the  love   of   liberty  and  hatred  of 

14* 


298  LIFE    OF    XAPOLEOX. 

tyranny,  says,  that  "the  two  worst  crimes  of  the  Revolution  were 
the  death  of  Malesherbes  and  the  coronation  of  Buonaparte."  1 
do  not  see  that  point  with  his  eyes.  I  have  nowhere  in  any  thing 
1  may  have  written  declared  myself  to  be  a  Republican  ;  nor 
should  I  think  it  worth  while  to  be  a  martyr  and  a  confessor  to 
any  form  or  mode  of  government.  But  what  I  have  staked 
Health  and  wealth,  name  and  fame  upon,  and  am  ready  to  do  so 
again  ami  to  the  last  gasp,  is  this,  that  there  is  a  power  in  the 
people  to  change  its  government  and  its  governors.  That  is,  1 
am  a  Revolutionist  :  for  otherwise,  I  must  allow  that  mankind 
are  but  a  herd  of  slaves,  the  property  of  thrones,  that  no  tyranny 
or  insult  can  lawfully  goad  them  to  a  resistance  to  a  particular  fa- 
mily, or  impair  in  any  possible  degree  the  sacred  and  inalienable 
right  of  insolent,  unmitigated  control  over  them  : — and  it  is  not  in 
the  p  iwcr  of  mortal  man  to  bring  me  to  that  acknowledgment  on 
tiie  part  of  myself  and  my  fellows.  This  is  the  only  remedy 
mankind  have  against  oppression  :  it'  tins  is  not  enough,  vet  I  am 
contented  with  it.  While  this  riirht  remains  in  force,  not  written 
indeed  in  the  preambles  of  acts  of  parliament  but  engraved  in  a 
nations  history,  pYoved  in  the  heraldry  of  its  kings,  a  country 
may  call  itself  free.  The  French  changed  tr  nn  a  m  marchv  to  a 
republic,  and  from  a  republic  to  the  empire,  but  they  changed  in 
case  ;  nor  was  tin'  breach  made  in  tin'  doctrine  of  passive 
hereditary  right  any  m  ire  h<  ah  d  or  soldered  up  by 
this  means,   than    it'  at  the  time  of  the   !  ■   of  Louis  X\  I. 

i hey  had  s"tit  to  a  iv-lv  German  Fleet  >r  or  to  the  Princi  f 
Orange  t  i  succod  him  with  the  sain  ■  title  and  with  certain  con- 
is  of  thi  ir  own.  It'  the  new-  dvnastv  ever  be  cam"  a  race  of 
r<iis  I  tin  'ins.  e.\i<tini!  on!  .  :'  r  tin  in>  Ivi  -  a-  i  ':.  jure  and  m  ilest 
th     p  ■  ijde.  tiiey  would  have  the  ;.  ._  .   <  c\     .  pie  M  ,    ritv  tc 

e\pel  and  overturn  them.  Trie  cdiati'_r''  ot'  1  tic  form  of  goveru- 
m  n!  niinht  ir'  considered  as  an  advance  towards  an  ace  mnnoda- 
;'  n  w  ith  tiie  -Id  ii  ri.-l  Tici  -  :  but  thev  did  n  t  n  ci  ive  it  so 
■  ':  at  first  at  la>t.  Un  the  e  >ntr;i ■-,  .  if  the  r<  inn  of  t  ror 
•  \    it     !  th'dr    f -ai's   an  ".the    e>;  it      f  the  L 

under  lin-napai't"  s-emeil  even  it  irreati-r  a:iV  nit  and  eneroaeh- 
ment  on  tii"ir  [iride  and  pri  *  i!e<_r,.s  :  and  so  far  from  b'dng  an 
Btoneini  ul    :   r  tiie   ravage-  i  :   .1  ic   binism,  was   the  seal  and  con 


THE   ESTABLISHMENT    OF   THE   EMPIRE.  5>99 

summation  of  them.  The  fellowship  between  him  and  the  Allies 
was  that  between  the  panther  and  the  wolf.  If  they  did  not  con- 
sider him  as  the  legitimate  successor  of  Louis  XVI.  and  as 
having  stopped  up  the  volcano  of  the  French  Revolution,  neither 
can  I  :  if  they  still  looked  upon  him  as  one  of  the  people  raised 
by  their  choice  or  who  had  usurped  that  power,  so  must  I  ;  for  it 
was  only  by  their  triumph  over  him  that  the  image  of  the  "  di- 
vine and  human  majesty"  joined  together  and  hallowed  by  preju- 
dice and  superstition  could  be  restored,  of  which  no  efforts  of  his 
could  produce  more  than  a  splendid  and  mortifying  counterfeit — • 
if  mortifying  to  republican  stoicism,  how  much  more  so  to  royal 
fortitude  !  The  balance  of  the  account,  if  not  quite  on  our  side, 
was  not  quite  and  forever  closed  against  us. 

The  repeated  attempts  made  against  the  life  of  the  First  Consul 
gave  a  handle  for  following  up  the  design  which  had  been  for 
some  time  agitated  of  raising  him  to  the  imperial  throne  and  mak- 
ing the  dignity  hereditary  in  his  family.  Not  that  indeed  this 
would  secure  him  from  personal  danger,  though  it  is  true  that 
"  there's  a  divinity  doth  hedge  a  king  ;"  but  it  lessened  the 
temptation  to  the  enterprise  and  allayed  a  part  of  the  public  dis- 
quietude by  providing  a  successor.  All  or  the  greater  part  were 
satisfied  (either  from  reason,  indolence,  or  the  fear  of  worse)  with 
what  had  been  gained  by  the  Revolution  ;  and  did  not  wish  to 
see  it  launch  out  again  from  the  port  in  which  it  had  taken  shel- 
ter to  seek  the  perils  of  new  storms  and  quicksands.  If  prudence 
had  some  share  in  this  measure,  there  can  be  little  doubt  that 
vanity  and  cowardice  had  theirs  also — or  that  there  was  a  lurk- 
ing desire  to  conform  to  the  Gothic  dialect  of  civilized  Europe  in 
forms  of  speech  and  titles,  and  to  adorn  the  steel  arm  of  the  Re- 
public with  embroidered  drapery  and  gold-tissue.  The  imitation, 
though  probably  not  without  its  effect, v  would  look  more  like  a 
burlesque  to  those  whom  it  was  intended  to  please,  and  could 
hardly  Hatter  the  just  pride  of  those  by  whom  it  was  undertaken. 
The  old  Republican  party  made  some  stand  :  the  Emigrants 
showed  great  zeal  for  it,  partly  real,  partly  affected.  Fouche 
canvassed   the  Senate   and  the  men   of  the   Revolution,  and  was 

*  For  instance,  would  the  Emperor  of  Austria  have  married  his  daughter 
to  Buonaparte  if  he  had  been  only  First  Consul  1 


300  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON 

soon  placed  in  consequence  at  the  head  of  the  police,  which  was 
restored,  as  it  was  thought  that  fresh  intrigues  might  break  out  on 
the  occasion.  The  army  gave  the  first  impulse,  as  was  but  natu- 
ral ;  to  them  the  change  of  style  from  Imperator  to  Emperor  was 
but  slight.  All  ranks  and  classes  followed  when  the  example 
was  once  set  :  the  most  obscure  hamlets  joined  in  the  addresses  ; 
the  First  Consul  received  waggon-loads  of  them.  A  register  for 
the  reception  of  votes  for  or  against  the  question  was  opened  in 
every  parish  in  France  ;  from  Antwerp  to  Perpignan.  from  Brest 
to  Mount  Cenis.  The  proces-verbal  of  all  these  votes  was  laid 
up  in  the  archives  of  the  Senate,  who  went  in  a  body  from  Paris 
to  St.  Cloud  to  present  it  to  the  First  Consul.  The  Second  Con- 
sul Cambacercs  read  a  speech,  concluding  with  a  summary  of  the 
number  of  votes  ;  whereupon  he  in  aloud  voice  proclaimed  Na- 
poleon Buonaparte  Emperor  of  the  French.  The  senators,  placed 
in  a  line  facing  him,  vied  with  each  other  in  repeating  Vive 
F  Empcreur  .'  and  returned  with  all  the  outward  signs  of  joy  to 
Paris,  where  people  were  already  writing  epitaphs  on  the  Repub- 
lic* Happy  thev  whom  epitaphs  on  the  dead  console  for  the  loss 
of  them  !  Tiiis  was  the  time,  if  ever,  when  they  ought  to  have 
opposed  him.  and  prescribed  limits  to  his  power  and  ambition,  and 
not  when  he  returned  weather-beaten  and  winter-flawed  from 
Russia.  But  it  was  more  in  character  for  these  persons  to  cringe 
when  spirit  was  wanted,  and  to  show  it  wh<  n  it  was  fatal  to  him 
and  1 1  themselves. 

Thus  th''ti  the  First  Consul  became  Emperor  by  a  majority  of 
two  milli  us  some  hundred  thousand  votes  to  a  few  hundreds. 
The  uumher  of  \  ,•  e.s  is  complained  of  by  some  persons  as  too 
small.  Probably  tln'V  mav  thi  '  I  it'  the  same  number  had 
been  against  the  measure  instead  of  being  fjr  it,  this  would  have 
con  fern  d  a  right  as  being  in  opp  isition  to  and  in  e  inti  mpt  of  the 
ch  'ice  of  the  pe  iple.      \V  lial  other  <  .  ■•  that  «    uld 

have  got  a  hundred  ?      What  other  eompi  tit  >v  c   uld  in  li    d  have 
come  forward  on  the  score  of  merit  !      Drtur  optima.      Birth 
was  not  :   but    birth  supers'  ■"!•  s   both  choice  and   merit.      The  day 
alter  the  mamniratr  n.  Bu  maparte  received  the  constituted  bodies, 

*  M.  Camb.io  n-  was  said  to  be  the  first   ■■  pn  cira  (Sir  lea  bottts  de  Buo 
rutpart'. )" — grease  i  his  hoots  ur  Sire;  him. 


THE   ESTABLISHMENT   OF   THE    EMPIRE.  301 

the  learned  corporations,  &c.  The  only  strife  was  who  should 
bow  the  knee  the  lowest  to  the  new-risen  sun.  The  troops 
while  taking  the  oath  rent  the  air  with  shouts  of  enthusiasm. 
The  succeeding  'lavs  witnessed  the  nomination  of  the  new  dicni- 
taries,  marshals,  and  all  the  usual  appendages  of  a  throne,  as  well 
with  reference  to  the  military  appointments  as  to  the  high  offices 
of  the  crown.  On  the  14th  of  July  the  first  distribution  of  the 
cross's  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  took  place;  and  Napoleon  set  out 
for  Boulogne  to  review  the  troops  stationed  in  the  neighborhood 
and  distribute  the  decorations  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  among  them, 
which  thenceforth  were  substituted  for  weapons  of  honor,  which 
had  been  previously  awarded  ever  since  the  first  war  in  Italy. 

The  Emperor  arrogated  nothing  to  himself  in  consequence  of 
the  change  in  his  situation.  He  had  assumed  the  mock-majesty 
of  kings,  and  had  taken  his  station  among  the  lords  of  the  earth  ; 
but  he  was  still  himself,  and  his  throne  still  stood  afar  off  in  the 
field  of  battle.  He  appeared  little  more  conscious  of  his  regal  style 
and  title,  than  if  he  had  put  on  a  masquerade-dress  the  evening 
before,  of  which  if  he  was  not  ashamed  (as  it  was  a  thing  of  cus- 
tom) he  had  no  reason  to  be  proud  ;  and  he  applied  himself  to  his 
different  avocations  with  the  same  zeal  and  activity  as  if  nothing 
extraordinary  had  happened.  He  thought  much  less,  it  was  evi- 
dent, of  all  these  now  honors  than  of  the  prosecution  of  his  opera- 
tions at  Boulogne,  on  which  he  labored  incessantly.  The  remote- 
ness or  doubtfulness  of  success  did  not  relax  his  efforts  ;  having 
once  determined  on  the  attempt,  all  the  intermediate  exertions  be- 
tween the  will  and  its  accomplishment  with  him  went  for  nothing, 
anv  more  than  so  much  holiday  recreation.  Something  more  of 
the  vis  incrlicB  would  have  allayed  this  inordinate  importunity  of 
voluntarv  power,  and  led  to  greater  security  and  repose. 

From  Boulogne  the  Emperor  went  a  second  time  to  Belgium, 
where  the'  Empress  joined  him;  they  occupied  the  palace  of 
Lacken  near  Brussels,  which  had  formerly  belonged  t  >  the  Arch- 
duke Charles.  He  this  time  extended  his  journey  to  the  Rhine: 
and  from  Mentz  h"  di.~pateh.ed  general  CaiFarelli  to  Km.'."  to  ar- 
range the  visit  of  the  Pone  to  Paris.  It  was  from  Men!/,  likewise 
he  sent  orders  for  the  departure  of  lie-  Toulon  and  Roeheiort 
B'piadrons  as  a  first  step  towards  carrying  into  effect  the  invasion 


302  LIFE   O.F   NAPOLEON. 


of  England  :   but  owing  to  unforeseen  circumstances,  it  was  win- 
tcr  before  they  sailed. 

Buonaparte  returned  from  this  tour  at  the  end  of  October;  nis 
attention  was  engaged  during  the  month  of  November  with  the 
preparations  for  the  Coronation,  the  Pope  having  set  out  from 
Rome  for  the  purpose  of  performing  the  ceremony.  The  court 
was  ordered  to  Fontainebleau  to  receive  him.  the  palace  there 
which  had  fallen  into  ruins  having  been  repaired  and  newly  fitted 
up  by  Napoleon.  He  went  to  meet  the  Pope  at  Nemours;  ami 
to  avoid  formality,  the  pretext  of  a  hunting-party  was  made  use  of, 
the  Emperor  coining  on  horseback  and  in  a  hunting-dress,  with 
his  retinue,  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  where  the  meeting  took  place. 
The  Pope's  carriage  drawing  up.  he  got  out  at  the  left  door  in  his 
white  costume  :  the  ground  was  dirty,  and  lie  did  not  like  to  tread 
upon  it  with  his  white  silk  shoes,  but  he  was  at  last  obliged  to  do 
so.  Napoleon  alighted  from  his  horse  to  receive  him.  The v 
embraced.  The  emperor's  carriage  had  been  driven  up  and  ad- 
vanced a  few  paces,  as  if  by  accident;  but  men  were  posted  to 
hold  the  two  doors  open,  and  at  the  moment  of  getting  in,  the 
Emperor  took  the  right  door,  and  an  officer  of  the  court  handed 
the  Pope  to  the  left,  so  that  they  entered  the  carriage  by  the  two 
doors  at  the  same  moment.  The  Emperor  naturally  seated  him- 
self on  the  right ;  and  this  first  step  decided  with  it  i 
upon  the  etiquette  to  be  observed  during  the  whole  time  of  the 
Pope's  stay  in  Paris.  This  interview  and  Buonaparte's  behavi  r 
was  the  very  highest  act  and  acme  of  audacity.  It  is  comparable 
to  nothing  but  the  meeting  of  Priam  and  Achilles:  or  a  joining 
of  hand-  between  the  youth  and  the  old  age  of  the  world.  If 
Pope  Pius  \  II.  represented  the  decay  of  ancient  superstiti  >n, 
II  ,  lapartr  represented  the  high  and  palmy  state  of  modern  opin- 
ion ;  vet  not  insulting  over  but  propping  the  fall  of  the  first. 
There  were  «■  mci  ~-:  ais  on  b  ith  sides,  from  the  oldest  p  aver  on 
earth  To  the  newest,  which  in  its  turn  asserted  precedence  for  the 
res'.  Iii  p  iut  f  birth  there  was  no  dhTbronco.  for  theocracy 
[is  to  the  (].-.-_r<  of  earth,  a-  dem  >cracv  springs  (Van  it:  but 
the  p,  ,>>,.  I,  ,u  ,.,]  his  head  f  .'    -     f  the  1  .niresf.i  stablished 

ami     'itv  in  Christendom.  Ibi   naparte  had  himself  raised  the  plat- 
form af  personal  elevation  im  which  he  stood   *"    meet    him.      To 


THE   ESTABLISHMENT   OF   THE   EMPIRE.  303 

us  the  condescension  may  seem  all  on  one  side,  the  presumption 
on  the  other ;  but  history  is  a  long  and  gradual  ascent,  where 
great  actions  and  characters  in  time  leave  borrowed  pomp  behind 
and  at  an  immeasurable  distance  below  them  ! — After  resting  at 
Fontainebleau,  the  Emperor  returned  to  Paris ;  the  Pope,  who 
set  out  first  and  was  received  with  sovereign  honors  on  the  road, 
was  escorted  to  the  Thuilleries  and  was  treated  the  whole  time  of 
his  residence  there  as  if  at  home.  The  novelty  of  his  situation 
and  appearance  at  Paris  excited  general  interest  and  curiosity; 
and  his  deportment,  besides  its  flowing  from  the  natural  mildness 
of  his  character,  was  marked  by  that  fine  tact  and  sense  of  pro- 
priety which  the  air  of  the  ancient  mistress  of  the  world  is  known 
to  inspire.  Manners  have  there  half  maintained  the  empire  which 
opinion  had  lost.  The  Pope  was  flattered  by  his  reception  and 
the  sentiments  of  respect  and  good-will  his  presence  seemed  eve- 
rywhere to  create,  and  gave  very  gracious  audiences  to  the  reli- 
gious corporations  which  were  presented  to  him,  and  which  were 
at  this  time  but  few  in  number.  To  meet  this  imposing  display 
of  pomp  and  ceremony,  Buonaparte  was  in  a  manner  obliged  to 
oppose  a  host  of  ecclesiastics,  of  old  and  new  nobility,  and  to  draw 
the  lines  of  form  and  etiquette  closer  round  him,  so  as  to  make 
the  access  of  old  friends  and  opinions  less  easy.  This  effect  of 
the  new  forms  and  ceremonies  was  at  least  complained  of;  but  if 
they  thus  early  kept  out  his  friends,  they  did  not  in'  the  end 
keep  out  his  enemies. 

The  day  fixed  for  the  Coronation  arrived.  It  was  the  2d  of 
December,  1804.  Notwithstanding  the  unfavorableness  of  the 
weather,  the  assemblage  of  the  deputations  from  all  the  Depart- 
ments, from  all  the  chief  towns,  and  of  all  the  regiments  of  the 
armv,  joined  to  all  the  public  functionaries  of  France,  to  all  the 
generals,  and  to  the  whole  population  of  the  capital,  presented  a 
fine  and  imposing  sight.  The  interior  of  the  church  of  Xetre- 
Dame  had  been  magnificently  embellished  ;  galleries  and  pews 
erected  for  the  occasion  were  thronged  with  a  prodigious  concourse 
of  spectators.  The  imperial  throne  was  placed  at  one  end  of  the 
nave,  on  a  very  elevated  platform:  that  of  the  Pope  was  in  the 
choir,  beside  the  high-altar.  I  am  not  averse  to  be  thus  particu- 
\ar  in  preserving  "  the  memory  of  what  has  been,  and  never  more 


304  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

will  be."  If  these  were  false  triumphs  and  false  pomps  of  that 
cause  which  was  ever  next  my  heart  (since  a  little  child  I  knelt 
and  lifted  up  my  hands  in  prayer  for  it)  thev  were  better  than  the 
total  ruin  and  grinning  infamy  that  afterwards  befel  it.  The 
Pope  (who  was  made  the  antic  of  the  day)  set  out  from  the  Thuil- 
laries,  preceded  by  his  chamberlain  on  an  ass  (which  there  was 
some  difficulty  in  procuring  at  the  moment.)  and  who  kept  his 
countenance  with  an  admirable  gravity  through  the  crowds  of 
observers  that  lined  the  streets.  The  Pope  arriving  at  the  archi- 
episcopal  palace,  repaired  to  the  choir  of  the  cathedral  by  a  pri- 
vate entrance. 

The  Emperor  set  out  with  the  Empress  by  the  Carrousel.  In 
getting  into  the  carriage,  which  was  open  all  round  and  without 
panels,  they  at  first  seated  themselves  with  their  backs  to  the 
horses — a  mistake  which  though  instantly  rectified,  was  remarked 
as  ominous  ;  and  it  had  all  the  ominousness  which  hangs  ovel 
new  power  or  custom.  The  procession  passed  along  the  Hue  St. 
Ilonore  to  that  of  the  Lombards,  then  to  the  Pont  au  Change,  the 
Palace  of  Justice,  the  court  of  Notrc-Dame,  and  the  entrance  to 
the  archiepiscopal  palace.  Here  rooms  were  prepared  for  tho 
whole  of  the  attendants,  some  of  whom  appeared  dressed  in  their 
civil  costumes,  others  in  full  uniform.  On  the  outside  of  the 
church  had  been  erected  a  long  wooden  gallery  from  the  arch- 
bishop's palace  to  the  entrance  of  the  church.  By  this  gallery 
came  the  Kmperor's  retinue,  which  presented  a  truly  magnificent 
sight.  They  had  taunted  us  with  our  simplicity  and  homeliness  : 
well  then  !  here  was  the  answer  to  it.  'Hit;  procession  was  led 
by  the  already  numerous  body  of  courtiers;  next  came  the 
marshals  of  the  Empire,  wearing  their  badges  of  honor ;  then  the 
dignitaries  and  high  officers  of  the  crown;  and  lastly,  the  Empe- 
ror, in  a  gorgeous  slate-dress.  At  the  moment  of  his  entering  tho 
cathedral,  there  was  a  simultaneous  shout,  which  resembled  one 
vast  explosion  of  Vive  i ''' J'lmpereur.  The  immense  quantity  of 
figures  to  be  seen  on  each  side  of  so  vast  an  edifice  formed  a 
tapestrv  of  the  most  striking  kind.  The-  procession  passed  along 
the  middle  of  the  nave,  and  arrived  at  the  choir  facing  the  high- 
altar.  This  part  of  the  spectacle  was  not  the  least  imposing:  the 
galleries  round  the  choir  were  filled  with  the  handsomest  women 


THE   ESTABLISHMENT   OF   THE   EMPIRE.  305 


which  France  could  boast,  and  most  of  whom  surpassed  in  the 
lustre  of  their  beauty  that  of  the  rich  jewels  with  which  they 
were  adorned. 

His  Holiness  then  went  to  meet  the  Emperor  at  a  desk,  which 
had  been  placed  in  the  middle  of  the  choir  ;  there  was  another  on 
one  side  for  the  Empress.  After  saying  a  short  prayer  there, 
they  returned,  and  seated  themselves  on  the  throne  at  the  end  of 
the  church  lacing  the  choir:  there  they  heard  mass,  which  was 
said  by  the  Pope.  'I  hey  went  to  make  the  offering,  and  came 
back  ;  they  then  descended  from  the  platform  of  the  throne,  and 
walked  in  procession  to  receive  the  holy  unction.  The  Emperor 
and  Empress,  on  reaching  the  choir,  replaced  themselves  at  their 
desks,  where  the  Pope  performed  the  ceremony.  He  presented 
the  crown  to  the  Emperor,  who  received  it,  put  it  himself  upon 
his  own  head,  took  it  off,  placed  it  on  that  of  the  Empress,  re- 
moved it  again,  and  laid  it  on  the  cushion  where  it  was  at  first. 
A  smaller  crown  was  immediately  put  upon  the  head  of  the  Em- 
press ;  who  being  surrounded  by  her  ladies,  every  thing  was  done 
so  quickly  that  nobody  was  aware  of  the  substitution  that  had 
taken  place.  The  procession  moved  back  to  the  platform.  There 
the  Emperor  heard  TeDeuin:  the  Pope  himself  went  thither  at 
the  conclusion  of  the  service,  as  if  to  say,  lie,  fiu'ssa  est!  The 
Testament  was  presented  to  the  Emperor,  who  took  off  his  glove, 
and  pronounced  the  oath  with  his  hand  upon  the  sacred  book. 
He  went  back  to  the  episcopal  palace  the  same  way  that  he  had 
come,  and  entered  his  carriage.  The  ceremony  was  long;  the 
day  cold  and  wet;  the  Emperor  seemed  impatient  and  uneasy  a 
great  part  of  the  time  ;  and  it  was  dusk  before  the  cavalcade 
reached  the  Thuilleries,  whither  it  returned  by  the  Rue  St.  Mar- 
tin, the  Boulevards,  the  Place  de  la  Concorde  and  the  Pont-Tour- 
nant.  The  distribution  of  the  eagles  took  place  some  days  after- 
wards. Though  the  weather  was  still  unfavorable,  the  throng 
was  prodigious,  and  the  enthusiasm  at  its  height  ;  the  citizens  as 
well  as  the  soldiers  burst  into  long  and  repeated  acclamations,  as 
those  warlike  bands  received  from  the  hands  of  their  renowned 
l"'\d''r  (not  less  a  soldier  for  being  a  king)  the  pledges  of  many  a 
well-fought  field. 

The  Cisalpine  Republic  at  the  same  time  underwent  a  change 


■S06  LIFE    OE    XAPOLEOX. 


which  was  easily  managed.  The  Emperor  was  surrounded  by 
men,  who  spared  him  the  trouble  of  expressing  the  same  wish 
twice,  though  many  of  them  afterwards  pretended  that  they  had 
sturdily  disputed  every  word  and  syllable  of  it,  opposing  a  shadow 
of  resistance  to  fallen  power  instead  of  the  substance  to  the  abuse 
of  it;  and  finding  no  medium  between  factious  divisions  and  ser- 
vile adulation.  Lombardy  was  erected  into  a  kingdom,  and  the 
Emperor  put  the  Iron  Crown  of  Charlemagne  upon  his  head. 
Those  who  look  upon  this  as  a  violent  usurpation  seem  wilfully 
to  ibrget  all  the  intermediate  steps  which  led  to  it,  as  though  it 
were  an  effect  without  a  cause.  A  crown  resting  on  merit  alone 
appears  ridiculous,  because  there  is  no  necessary  connection  be- 
tween the  two  things  ;  a  crown  worn  without  any  merit  in  the 
wearer  seems  natural  and  in  order,  because  no  reason  is  even 
pretended  to  be  assigned  for  it.  If  such  things  are  to  be  at  all, 
who  so  worthy  of  the  distinction  as  those  who  achieve  them  as 
tokens  of  what  they  have  done  and  are  to  do — if  they  are  not  to 
be  at  all,  I  am  still  better  satisfied.  The  Pope,  who  had  done  all 
that  was  required  of  him,  expected  something  in  return:  he 
asked  for  the  restoration  of  Avignon  in  France,  of  Bologna  and 
Fcrrara  in  Italy,  to  the  Holy  See.  The  Emperor  turned  a  deaf 
ear;  and  on  the  Pope's  insisting,  gave  a  flat  refusal.  Tins  was 
the  beginning  of  a  groat  deal  of  petty  disagreement  and  annoy- 
ance that  was  creditable  to  neither  party.  His  Holiness  went 
away  not  in  the  best  humor,  though  Buonaparte  made  him 
magnificent  presents  of  every  thing  but  what  ho  wanted.  They 
bid  farewell  to  each  other,  the  Ihnpei'or  leaving  the  Pope  at  Paris 
to  set  out  f<ir  Italy,  by  way  of  'Proves  and  Burgundy,  which  he 
wished  to  visit.  They  met  again  at  Turin,  whence  the  Pope 
proceeded  by  wav  of  Casal  to  Pome,  and  the  Kmperor  through 
Asti  and  Alexandria  to  be  crowned  at  .Milan.  He  stopped  at 
Alexandria  (the  1  1th  of  June,  ]  so,") j  to  review  the  troops  on  the 
anniversary  of  the  battle  of  .Marengo.  He  on  that  day  put  on  the" 
same  coat  and  laced  hat  he  had  worn  in  the  field  of  battle.  This 
dress,  which  was  old  and  moth-eaten,  was  pierced  in  more  than 
one  place  "by  the  Austrian  bullets.  It  was  on  the  same  occasion 
that  he  had  a  monument  erected  on  the  top  of  Mount  St.  Bernard 
to  perpetuate  the  memory  o*'  that  victory;  and  that  the  remains  of 


THE   ESTABLISHMENT   OF   THE    EMPIRE.  307 

Desaix,  which  were  discovered  with  some  difficulty  in  the  same 
vault  and  in  the  same  state  in  which  they  had  been  left  five  years 
before,  were  deposited  with  funeral  pomp  in  the  sacristy  of  the 
Convent. 

A  deputation  of  the  Cisalpine  Republic  with  Melzi  (afterwards 
Duke  of  Lodi)  at  its  head,  had  come  to  Paris  to  oiler  Buonaparte 
the  Iron  Crown  of  Italy,  and  they  had  returned  in  time  to  wel- 
come him  to  .Milan.  The  enthusiasm  in  this  city  was  excessive  ; 
lor  is  it  to  be  wondered  at  after  the  vicissitudes  of  surprise  and 
disappointment,  of  hope  and  fear,  of  defeat  and  victory,  to  which 
they  had  so  often  been  subjected  and  were  still  doomed  to  be  so, 
the  sport  of  fortune,  not  masters  of  their  own  fate  !  Buonaparte 
was  a  favorite  with  the  Italians;  he  was  theirs  by  birth-right,  by 
his  knowledge  of  their  language,  by  his  intimate  acquaintance 
with  all  the  local  circumstances  of  their  history  and  institutions, 
no  less  than  by  the  benefits  he  had  conferred  upon  them  and  that 
brilliant  career  which  had  commenced  upon  their  soil  !  Of  the 
many  great  works  he  caused  to  be  performed  amongst  them,  the 
completing  of  the  cathedral  of  Milan  was  nut  the  least  flattering 
to  their  pride.  The  ceremony  of  the  coronation  took  place  in 
this  vast,  building.  A  detachment  of  the  guard  of  honor  at  Mi- 
lan went  the  day  before  to  fetch  the  Iron  Crown  of  the  ancien* 
kings  of  Lombardy,  which  was  carefully  preserved  at  Muntza  ; 
it  became  once  more  that  of  the  kingdom  of  Italy.  On  this  oc- 
casion the  Kmperor  instituted  the  order  of  the  Iron  Crown,  and 
after  the  ceremony  of  the  coronation  went  in  state  to  the  Senate, 
where  he  invested  Prince  Eugene  Beauharnais  with  the  vice-roy- 
alty of  Italy. 

While  at  Milan,  the  French  read  the  accounts  in  the  news- 
papers, published  from  the  intercepted  correspondence  of  Sir  Ar- 
thur Wellesley,  of  the  immense  strides  made  by  the  English 
power  in  India,  and  could  not  help  being  struck  with  the  different 
measure  of  moderation  or  aggrandizement,  which  we  seemed  to 
have  for  ourselves  or  our  neighbors!  This  happened  just  at 
the  time  when  the  annexation  of  Genoa  to  the  French  Empire 
gave  a  severe  shock  to  the  political  prudery  of  the  English  cabi- 
net. Genoa  however,  as  circumstances  stood,  was  rather  a  bur 
den  thau  an   acquisition  to   France,  so  as  to  cause  an  increase  in 


30S  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON 

tiie  public  expenditure.  Genoa  had  long  possessed  nothing  but 
marble  palaces,  the  relics  of  its  former  grandeur.  During  all 
this  accession  of  honors  and  these  multiplied  transactions,  the 
Emperor  found  time  to  transmit  the  most  minute  directions  re- 
specting the  equipment  and  embarking  of  the  still  meditated  naval 
expedition  through  one  of  his  confidential  agents  at  Boulogne. 
So  little  did  the  weight  of  two  crowns  press  upon  his  brain  or 
make  it  giddy  !  At  Brescia  he  learned  the  return  of  Missiessy's 
squadron  two  months  before  its  time,  bringing  the  English  fleets 
with  it,  which  caused  him  a  degree  of  chagrin,  which  he  strove 
in  vain  to  hide.  Afterwards,  the  delay  and  incapacity  of  Ville- 
neuve  disconcerted  the  whole  project,  as  has  been  already  hinted. 
Buonaparte,  after  passing  through  Brescia,  Verona,  .Mantua,  and 
the  other  cities  of  Italy,  to  take  possession  of  Genoa,  returned  to 
Paris  by  way  of  Fontainebleau  towards  the  end  of  June,  and  has- 
tened to  the  coast  only  to  witness  the  disappointment  of  a  series 
of  calculations,  which  almost  unavoidably  foil  to  pieces  from  the 
number  of  links  of  which  it  was  composed.  Every  thing  was 
so  far  ready  at  the  time  that  the  signal  to  embark  was  looked  for 
every  hour,  but  it  never  came.  Events  of  a  different  complexion 
opened  a  new  career  for  his  love  of  enterprise  and  his  ambition, 
it'  the  repelling  the  unprovoked  and  unexpected  aggressions  of 
others  is  bv  any  courtesy  of  speech  to  be  called  so. 

Before  proceeding  to  take  up  that  part  of  the  subject,  it  will 
not  be  amiss  to  give  a  {'>-w  particulars  of  Napoleon's  private 
habits  and  m  ide  of  lifi    at  this  period  of  hi.-  history. 

Every  morning  at  nine  o'el  >ck  regularly  (when  he  was  at  home) 
the  Emperor  came  nut  of  the  interior  of  his  apartments,  dressed 
fhr  the  day.  The  officers  of  the  household  were  the  first  ad- 
mitted. Napoleon  gave  them  his  orders  for  the  daw  Imme- 
diately after,  the  grand  rntrirs  were  introduced,  consisting  of  per- 
sons of  the  highest  rank,  who  were  entitled  to  this  privilege 
either  bv  their  functions  or  bv  special  favor.  This  privilege  was 
at  that  time  considered  a-  the  highest  possible  distinction.  Na- 
poleon addressed  each  person  in  turn,  and  listened  good-naturedlv 
hat  was  said  to  him.  The  round  being  made,  he  bowed 
and  every  one  withdrew.  S  inn  timi  s  th>  se  who  had  anv  particu- 
lar request  to  make  remained  al  me  with  him  a  few  moments  after 


THE  ESTABLISHMENT   OF   THE   EMPIRE.  309 

the  others.  At  half  an  hour  after  nine  the  breakfast  was  served. 
The  prefect  of  the  palace*  went  to  apprise  him  of  it  and  to  go  be- 
fore him  into  the  saloon  where  he  was  to  breakfast,  and  there 
waited  on  him  alone,  assisted  by  the  first  maiire-d/ hotel,  who  per- 
formed all  the  details  of  the  duty.  Napoleon  breakfasted  on  a 
small  mahogany  stand  covered  with  a  napkin.  The  prefect  of 
the  palace  was  in  attendance,  his  hat  under  his  arm,  standing 
near  the  little  table.  Temperate  as  ever  man  was,  the  breakfast 
of  the  Emperor  often  lasted  not  more  than  eight  or  ten  minutes. 
But  when  he  felt  an  inclination  to  close  the  doors,  as  he  said 
sometimes  laughing,  the  breakfast  lasted  long  enough,  and  then 
nothing  could  surpass  the  easy  gaiety  and  grace  of  his  conversa- 
tion. His  expressions  were  rapid,  pointed,  and  picturesque. 
Those  who  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  about  his  person  found 
these  the  most  agreeable  hours  of  their  lives.  He  often  received 
during  breakfast-time  a  few  individuals  in  whose  society  he  had 
the  greatest  pleasure,  among  whom  might  be  mentioned  particu- 
larly the  names  of  Monge,  Bertholet,  Costaz,  Uenon,  Corvisart  his 
physician,  and  the  celebrated  David,  Gerard,  Isabey,  Talma,  and 
others.  The  satisfaction  of  all  parties  was  mutual  and  complete. 
Endowed  with  abundant  resources,  a  superior  understanding  and 
extraordinary  quickness,  it  was  in  moments  of  the  most  un- 
guarded confidence  and  intimacy  that  Napoleon,  by  the  common 
consent  of  all  who  knew  him,  shone  the  most. 

Having  returned  to  his  cabinet,  Napoleon  applied  himself  to 
business,  and  received  the  Ministers  and  Directors-General,  who 
atti  nded  with  their  port-folios  ;  these  different  occupations  lasted 
till  six  in  the  evening,  and  were  never  broken  in  upon,  except  on 
the  days  of  the  Councils  of  the  Ministers  or  the  Councils  of  Slate. 
The  dinner  was  regularly  served  up  at  six  o'clock.  At  the 
Thuilleries  or  at  St.  Cloud,  their  Majesties  dined  alone,  except 
on  Sundays,  when  the  whole  of  the  Imperial  family  were  admitted 
to  the  banquet  :  the  Emperor,  the  Empress,  and  the  Emperor's 
mother  were  seated  in  elbow-chairs,  the  rest  had  common  chairs. 
The  dinner  consisted  but  of  one  course,  prolonged  bv  the  dessert; 
the  simplest  dishes  were  those  which  Napoleon  preferred.  The 
only  wine  he  drank  was  Chambertin,  and  he  seldom  drank  it 
*  At  that  time  M.  de  Bausset.  who  jrives  the  above  account 


310  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

pure.     The  attendants  were  the  pages,  the  mailres-d'hdlel,  and 

other  servants  out  of  livery.  The  dinner  lasted  ordinarily  from 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  twenty  minutes.  Buonaparte  never 
tasted  spirits  or  liqueurs.  lie  usually  took  two  eups  of  coffee 
pure,  one  in  "the  morning  after  breakfast,  and  the  other  directly 
after  dinner.  All  that  has  been  said  of  his  abuse  of  this  beverage 
was  at  that  time  false  and  ridiculous. 

Having  gone  back  to  the  drawing-room,  a  page  presented  to 
the  Emperor  a  silver-gilt  waiter  on  which  were  a  cup  and  a 
sugar-basin.  The  principal  servant  pound  out  the  coffee  ;  the 
Empress  then  took  the  cup  from  the  Emperor;  the  page  and  the 
head-servant  withdrew,  the  prefect  of  the  palace  still  remaining 
till  the  Empress  had  poured  the  coffee  into  the  saucer  and  handed 
it  to  Napoleon.  It  happened  so  often  that  this  prince  forgot  to 
take  it  at  the  proper  time,  that  the  Empress  Josephine  and  after 
her  the  Empress  Maria-Louisa  had  hit  upon  so  complaisant  a 
mode  of  remedying  this  slight  inconvenience.  Shortly  after,  the 
Emperor  returned  into  his  cabinet  to  resume  his  labors,  for  rarely 
(as  he  observed)  he  put  riff  till  to-morrow  what  he  could  do  to-dau. 
The'  Empress  descended  to  her  apartments  by  a  private  stair, 
which  had  a  communicati  >n  with  b  ith  suites  of  rooms  :  on  enter- 
ing the  drawing-room,  she  there  found  the  ladies  of  honor  in 
attendance,  some  other  privileged  ladies,  and  the  officers  of  her 
house-hold  :  card-tables  were  set  out  for  firm's  sake  and  to  break 
the  constraint  of  a  circle.  Napoleon  sometimes  came  there 
through  the  Empress's  apartments,  and  talked  with  as  much 
simplicity  as  freedom  with  the  ladies  of  the  court  or  the  rest  of 
the  company.  Rut  in  general  he  stayed  only  o  sh  rt  time.  The 
odicrs  on  duty  prepared  to  attend  the  evening  leve>\  and  to  re- 
ceive their  orders  for  the  next  day.  Such  was  the  life  habitually 
1"  I    bv    the    Emper  n-    a"    the  s.        Its    uniformity    was 

interrupted    only    wh"ii    there    was  a   concert,  a    play,   or    by  the 
chase.      During    his  >tay  at    St.    Cloud,  the  manner  of  living  was 
t!i"    same,    with    the    e.v     :  •     o      |    the    time    employed,    in    tine 
r.  in    rides   in    I  ;b   rh      !.      The  Council   of  .Minis- 

tei's  was   held   every  \\  cdne-day  :   the   members   were  always  in- 
nner.       \ '    I     :.'     neb'eau,    llamb   uillet,   or   Com- 
•  '■  r  r  '    Nap  ile  n  wi  nt    l  ■   hunt,  there    was  always  a  tent 


THE   ESTABLISHMENT   OF   THE   EMPIRE.  311 

set  up  in  the  forest  for  breakfast,  to  which  all  the  party  was 
invited:  the  ladies  followed  the  chase  in  their  carriages.  It  was 
usual  for  eight  or  ten  persons  to  be  asked  to  dine.  Napoleon's 
mode  of  life  when  he  was  with  the  army  or  on  a  journey  of 
course  varied  according  to  the  nature  of  the  circumstances.  The 
whole  economy  of  the  household  was  regulated  with  the  exactest 
care  by  the  Grand-Marshal  Duroc  (Duke  of  Frioul)  under  the 
superintendance  of  the  Emperor  himself.  Nevertheless,  we  are 
not  to  suppose  that  there  was  an  appearance  of  any  thing  mean 
or  niggardly.  Napoleon's  own  tastes  were  simple  and  modest  ; 
but  he  liked  to  see  display  and  magnificence  around  him.  His 
court  was  always  brilliant  and  in  the  best  taste.  There  was 
order  and  not  waste. 

It  sometimes  happened  that  Napoleon  pre-occupied  with  affairs 
of  state,  rose  from  breakfast  or  dinner  for  days  together  without  a 
word  having  been  said.  But  such  occurrences,  it  is  to  be  noted, 
were  rare  ;  and  even  when  his  brow  was  serious  and  his  lips 
silent,  he  still  showed  himself  just,  polite,  and  kind.  Few  persons 
(according  to  the  best  testimony)  have  in  private  possessed  more 
equability  of  temper,  and  greater  gentleness  of  manners.  In  po- 
litical discussions  indeed  he  did  not  willingly  give  ground;  but 
even  when  his  features  were  kindled  into  warmth  and  his  expres- 
sions betraved  anger,  he  had  often  too  much  reason  for  it  ;  and 
his  indignation  was  more  than  once  roused  by  ingratitude,  which 
sprang  up  in  the  very  height  of  his  prosperity.  Two  instances 
may  be  given  here  to  explain  the  difference  of  the  tone  of  senti- 
ment and  etiquette  in  the  new  and  the  old  court.  M.  Victor  deCar- 
aman  (since  the  return  of  the  Bourbons  Ambassador  to  the  Court 
of  Vienna)  had  been  arrested  and  put  in  prison  in  the  time  of  the 
Consulate.  His  wife,  encouraged  by  the  Empress  Josephine, 
whose  extreme  goodness  was  known  to  all  France,  had  the  bold- 
ness to  make  her  way  through  the  guard  and  mount  on  the  steps 
of  Napoleon's  carriage  to  make  an  affecting  appeal  in  behalf  of 
her  husband.  She  was  listened  to  with  attention  and  without  any 
marks  of  impatience  ;  but  she  did  not  obtain  a  favorable  answer. 
In  her  hurry  and  distress,  Madame  de  Caraman  forgot  her  work- 
bag  in  the  carriage,  which  was  sent  to  her  the  next  morning. 
On  seeing  it,  she  expected  to  find    her  husband's  pardon   in  the 


312  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


work-bag.  It  is  certain  that  in  the  days  of  romantic  chivalry,  or 
in  a  case  less  grave,  this  trait  of  gallantry  might  have  suggested 
itself.  Josephine  declared  that  the  Emperor  was  at  first  tempted 
to  do  so  ;  but  that  he  fancied  the  oversight  had  been  voluntary 
and  premeditated,  and  then  he  altered  his  mind,  the  statesman 
getting  the  better  of  the  courtier.  Some  months  afterwards,  M. 
de  Caraman  was  sent  to  reside  at  Ivrea  in  Piedmont,  under  the  eye 
of  the  police.  Another  illustration  to  the  purpose  is  the  circum- 
stance that  at  a  later  period  it  was  debated  whether  the  Emperor 
should  not  dine  in  public  as  the  Princes  of  the  House  of  Bour- 
bon had  formerly  done  ;  but  this  was  negatived  on  the  ground 
that  the  mere  act  of  eating  or  drinking  was  on"  that  concerned 
t;ii-  individual  alone  ;  and  though  it  was  proper  and  of  a  piece  to 
make  a  state  ceremony  of  this  with  regard  to  the  former  family, 
as  all  that  they  did  was  for  their  own  sakrs.  and  supposed  by  that 
alone  to  be  worthy  of  the  homage  and  wonder  of  the  people,  vet 
in  the  new  dynasty  and  upon  modern  principles  it  was  a  paralo- 
gism and  an  impertinence  to  obtrude  the  Imperial  family  upon 
general  notice,  except  as  servants  of  the  public,  and  in  cases 
where  the  latter  were  primarily  and  ostensibly  interested.  This 
distinction,  which  was  not  merely  in  words,  but  acted  upon  at 
the  time,*  is  worth  volumes  as  a  comment  on  the  character  and 
use>  of  the  two  governments. 

About  the  period  at  which  we  have  arrived,  the  Abbe  de  Pradt, 
Cardinal  Maury,  the  old  academician  La  Ilarpe,  and  Chateau- 
briand,, became  a  sort  of  app'  ndages  to  the  Imperial  Court.  Buo- 
naparte's youngest  brother,  Jerome,  was  out  of  favor  with  him 
for  having  married  an  Ann  rican  ladv,  whom  he  n  fusi  d  t  !i- 
vorce  in  order  to  wed  a  continental  princess.  !!•■  afterwarls 
yielded  to  his  brother's  solicitations.  Madame  de  Staol  (who  had 
banished  to  ( emeva  on  account  of  her  eloquence  and  in- 
t:.'-1:  s)  had  just  udven  new  unionise  by  her  declamations  a 
the   (.'at i:  'lie   religion,  in    her   i  I)  ■    ,  and   v 

all     ved  to  come  to  Pa  ris  to    enj    \    '  .     succ  -  -  of  it.      Bu    uapar" 
is  aceusf  'I  of  havinir  intermeddled  too  much  and  too  harshly  with 
literature;    hut  not   till  it  ha  1    (:.-'    o.    Idled    with    him.      lie  was 
fond  of  the  theatre  and  ofo-n  r:r:::o:.-«   :   the  new    pieces  that  came 
*   In  the  •:. ..       '   \1    ria  Louisa. 


THE   ESTABLISHMENT   OF   THE   EMPIRE.  313 

out  (some  of  them  of  a  political  tendency)  with  the  spirit  of  a 
statesman  and  the  aeuteness  of  a  philosopher.  Some  persons 
have  complained  that  he  criticised  the  plan  and  style  of  a  tragedy 
with  the  same  confidence  as  if  it  had  been  the  order  of  a  battle. 
Surely,  he  who  had  overcome  and  seemingly  reconciled  all  par- 
ties (besides  being  a  mere  soldier)  must  be  allowed  to  have  pos- 
sessed some  knowledge  of  mankind,  as  he  who  had  risen  to  the 
summit  of  power  could  not  be  altogether  a  stranger  to  aspiring 
and  lofty  sentiments.  The  Cid  of  modern  Europe  had  earned  a 
right  to  admire  Corneille. 


vol.  II.  15  27 


Ill  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


CHAPTER    XXXV 


BATTLE    OF    AUSTERLITZ. 


Towards  the  end  of  1804  a  memorial  by  one  of  the  Austrian 
Ministers  roused  Mr.  Pitt  from  the  state  of  inaction,  in  which  ho 
had  so  long  remained  supine  but  writhing  under  the  sense  of  dis- 
appointment, to  dream  once  more  of  Coalitions  winch  had  hitherto 
been  and  were  still  to  be  formed  during  his  lifetime  only  to  be 
broken  in  pieces  again.  Marengo  had  staggered,  Austerlitz  gave 
the  finishing  blow  to  the  schemes  of  pride  and  arrogance  which 
filled  up  the  whole  measure  of  his  perverted  capacity.  In  the 
month  of  January,  1805,  he  gave  orders  to  the  English  legation 
to  feel  the  pulse  of  the  Cabinet  of  St.  Petersburg;  and  on  the 
11th  of  April  following,  the  treaty  of  concert  was  signed  between 
England,  Austria,  and  Russia,  the  two  latter  powers  engaging  to 
bring  large  armies  into  the  field,  while  England  was  to  furnish 
proportionable  subsidies,  in  prosecution  of  the  old  nefarious  object. 
Austria,  being  the  nearest  was  in  the  field  first,  and  commenced 
operations  according  to  the  legitimate  privilege  by  an  attack  on 
Bavaria,  a  neutral  power,  in  order  to  force  her  into  the  Coalition  ; 
but  the  tide  of  war  soon  turned,  and  Bavaria  became  the  ally  of 
France.  In  the  June  of  the  same  year,  Baron  Vincent,  the  Aus- 
trian (ieneral,  had  gone  out  of  his  way  to  visit  Napoleon  at  Ve- 
rona, and  had  paid  him  sovereign  honors  by  a  salute  of  artillery. 
_\o  declaration  of  war  was  issued,  and  Count  Cobentzel,  the  Aus- 
trian Plenipotentiary,  still  remained  at  Paris,  so  that  every  tiling 
(  incurred  to  lull  Buonaparte  into  a  false  security  ;  but  a  spark 
was  sufficient  to  rouse  him  into  action,  and  the  thunderbolt  fell  on 
t'iose  who  thought  to  take  him  by  surprise.  lie  was  so  little  ap- 
prehensive on  the  subject  at  first,  that  he  would  not  for  some  time 
rr  (111  the  rumors  of  a  rupture  with  Austria,  and  scut  Savary  to 
b'rankfort-on-the-Maine  to  learn  the  truth  of  the  matter,  and  to 


TATTLE   OF   AUST-ERLITZ.  315 

buy  the  best  maps  of  the  German  Empire.  Certain  news,  how- 
ever, soon  came  of  the  advance  of  General  Mack  upon  Munich, 
and  of  the  arrival  of  the  Russians  in  the  Austrian  territory.  The 
Emperor  now  lost  no  time  in  raising  the  camp  at  Boulogne  and  in 
pushing  the  troops  forward  by  the  shortest  routes  to  the  banks  of 
the  Rhine,  so  that  they  might  arrive  there  by  the  time  that  the 
Austrian  army  reached  the  Danube. 

General  Marmont  received  orders  to  make  the  best  of  his  way 
from  Holland.  Bernadotte,  who  was  in  Hanover,  had  to  cross 
part  of  the  territory  of  Prussia,  with  whom  France  was  at  peace, 
and  the  sovereigns  of  the  two  countries  had  only  lately  exchanged 
honorary  distinctions.  At  the  same  time,  therefore,  that  the  Em- 
peror  sent  Bernadotte  orders  to  march,  he  dispatched  the  Grand- 
Marshal  Duroc  to  Berlin  to  apprise  the  king  of  Prussia  of  the 
critical  situation  in  which  he  was  placed  by  an  attack  without 
any  previous  declaration  of  war,  to  express  his  extreme  regret  at 
being  obliged  on  the  sudden  to  march  his  troops  over  certain  por- 
tions of  the  Prussian  dominions,  and  to  excuse  himself  on  the 
ground  of  absolute  necessity  alone.  Duroc's  reception  was  not 
so  cordial  as  it  had  been  on  a  former  occasion.  The  King  said 
little,  digested  the  affront  inwardly  as  well  as  he  could  ;  but  long 
after  his  chagrin  broke  out  on  more  than  one  occasion,  when  he 
could  only  resort  to  complaints,  saying  to  Xapoleon — "  But  why 
did  you  violate  my  neutrality  of  Anspach  and  Bareuth  ?"  Baron 
llardenbcrg  spoke  out  more  plainly  in  an  official  note  on  the  sub- 
ject, and  there  is  little  doubt  that  a  war  would  have  been  the  re- 
sult, had  it  not  been  for  the  battle  of  Austerlitz.  Prussia  had 
just  about  the  same  time  refused  a  passage  through  Polish  Prus- 
sia to  the  Russian  army,  which  was  however  consented  to  in  con- 
sequence  of  the  dissatisfaction  of  the  court  with  Bernadotte's 
movement  ;  and  the  Emperor  Alexander  soon  after  came  to  Ber- 
lin, under  pretence  of  a  visit  to  his  sister,  the  hereditary  Princess 
of  Saxe-Weimar,  but  in  truth  to  draw  over  Prussia  to  the  Coali- 
tion. 

Napoleon  ha<\  already  made  all  his  calculations.  The  maps 
of  England  had  disappeared,  and  given  place  to  those  of  Germany, 
which  was  more  debateable  ground.  Not  sorry  to  exchange  his 
bridge  of  boats  for  firm  land,  he  made  those  about  him  follow  the 


316  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


intended  march  of  the  troops,  and  explained  his  own  designs  in 
these  words:  "  if  the  enemy."'  he  said,  "comes  to  meet  me,  I 
will  destroy  him  before  he  has  regained  the  Danube:  if  lie  waits 
lor  me,  I  will  surprise  him  between  Augsburg  and  Ulm."  Ami 
so  it  happened.  lie  issued  his  last  orders,  and  set  out  for  Paris; 
where  having  arrived,  he  repaired  to  the  Senate,  informed  them 
of  the  circumstances  which  led  him  to  give  a  new  destination  to 
the  troops  and  to  call  for  fresh  supplies,  and  proceeded  next  day 
to  Strasburg.  lie  reached  that  city  while  the  French  army  was 
passing  the  Rhine  at  Kehl,  Lauterburg,  Spires,  and  Manheim. 
He  inspected  the  establishments  of  the  fortress,  and  gave  orders 
for  the  reconstruction  of  the  fort  of  Kehl.  He  had  sent  propo. 
sals  to  the  Prince  of  Baden  and  to  the  Landgrave  of  Ilesse- 
Darmstadt  to  join  him:  the  first  did  so  a  little  before  the  battle  of 
Austerlitz;  the  other  thought  it  best  to  wait  till  it  was  over.  On 
the  approach  of  the  different  troops  to  the  foot  of  the  mountains 
situated  in  the  country  of  YVurtemberg,  the  Duke  had  drawn  up 
his  little  army  near  Ludwijjsburg,  his  summer-residence,  and  was 
preparing  to  make  a  formal  resistance,  when  the  Emperor's  aide- 
de-camp  appeared  to  request  permission  to  pass.  This  mark  of 
courtesy  satisfied  him  :  and  the  Emperor  met  a  magnificent  re- 
ception from  the  court  of  Wurtembeig.  sleeping  two  nights  at 
the  palace  of  Ludwigsburg.  It  was  on  this  occasion  the  Princess- 
Roval  of  England  (who  had  been  married  to  the  Duke  of  Wur- 
temberg)  sent  home  word  to  express  her  surprise  at  finding  Buo- 
naparte so  polite  and  agreeable  a  person  and  not  at  all  the  hideous 
"lire  he  h;id  been  held  up  in  this  country,  lest  John  Bull 
should  not  he  sufficiently  terrified  to  answer  the  purposes  of  those 
who  wanted  to  goad  him  to  madness.  I>!irin:_r  his  stav  here,  hos- 
tilities commenced  on  the  road  from  Stutgard  to  I  lm  between 
Martial  Xey's  corps  and  the  Austrian*;  commanded  bv  the  Arch- 
duke Ferdinand  and  Field-Marshal  Mack.  Buonaparte  directed 
Marshal  Xey  to  debouch  by  the  high  Stiitgard  road,  making  the 
enemy  believe  that  the  whole  army  were  following  him,  when  ho 
suddenly  wheeled  round  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning  to  Xordlin- 
gen.  where  shortly  after  arrived  the  c  >rps  of  Davoust  from  Man- 
heim by  the  valley  of  the  Xecker.  that  of  Soult  from  Spires  bv 
Heilbron,  and  lastly,  that  of  Marshal  Lannes  who   reached  Dona- 


BATTLE   OF   AUSTERLITZ.  317 

wort  just  in  time  to  prevent  an  Austrian  battalion,  who  had  ap- 
peared on  the  right  bank  of  the  Danube,  from  destroying  the 
bridge,  and  drove  them  back  to  the  other  side  of  the  river. 

The  Emperor  then  caused  the  country  to  be  scoured  as  far  as 
the  Lech;  and  placed  nimself  in  communication  with  General 
Marmont,  who  had  passed  the  Danube  at  Neuburg,  and  also  with 
the  Bavarian  army  which  was  leaving  Ingolstadt  to  join  him. 
He  ordered  Augsburg  to  be  occupied,  which  is  forty  miles  in  the 
rear  of  Ulm,  where  the  Austrian  head-quarters  were  ;  and  sent 
Soult  forward  to  blockade  Memmingen,  a  small  town  to  the  south 
of  Ulm,  which  was  the  only  line  of  retreat  the  enemy  had  left, 
and  into  which  they  had  thrown  six  thousand  men.  He  then 
went  and  fixed  his  head-quarters  at  Augsburg  to  observe  what 
course  the  Austrian  army  was  about  to  take,  round  whom  he  had 
drawn  a  circle  by  the  movement  he  had  made  in  advance  with 
his  different  corps,  as  completely  as  with  the  foot  of  a  pair  of 
compasses.  From  Augsburg  lie  proceeded  to  Zumnershausen, 
and  caused  Ulm  to  be  hemmed  in  on  all  sides.  It  was  difficult  to 
understand  why  the  Austrian  generals  had  remained  here  so  long 
(as  if  spell-bound)  in  the  midst  of  all  these  complicated  prepara- 
tions to  surround  them,  neither  attempting  to  escape  nor  offering 
battle  to  the  French.  At  length,  as  the  Emperor  approached  by 
Guntzburg  within  sight  of  Ulm,  he  learned  that  a  strong  detach- 
ment under  the  Archduke  Ferdinand  had  escaped  from  the  place, 
and  was  making  its  way  into  the  mountains  of  Bohemia  in  spite 
of  the  attempt  of  one  of  Marshal  Ney's  divisions  to  stop  it.  The 
same  day  a  second  column  left  the  place,  but  was  met  by  another 
division  of  Ney's  corps  and  driven  back  into  Ulm.  The  corps  of 
Marshal  Lannes  was  ordered  to  support  that  of  Marshal  Xey,  and 
that  same  evening  the  two  corps  slept  on  the  heights  which  over- 
look Ulm  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Danube,  while  Marmont  ap- 
proached it  on  the  right.  The  Emperor  took  post  at  Elchingen, 
which  was  the  key  of  Bohemia.  Ulm  was  closely  invested,  and 
its  outposts  driven  in. 

The  Austrians  remained  in  this  situation  four  days  without 
making  any  overture.  In  the  mean  time,  Memmingen  had  sur- 
rendered with  its  garrison  of  six  thousand  men.  the  news  of  which 
was  brought  the  Emperor  in  a  wretched   bivouac    where  it  was 


318  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


necessary  to  procure  a  plank  for  him  lo  keep  his  feet  out  of  the 
water.  He  had  just  received  the  capitulation,  when  Prince  Mau- 
rice Lichtenstein  came  with  a  flag  of  truce  from  Marshal  Mack, 
lie  was  led  forward  on  horseback  with  his  eyes  bandaged.  When 
he  was  presented  to  the  Emperor,  his  look  showed  that  he  did  not 
expect  to  find  him  there.  Mack,  not  suspecting  his  presence,  had 
sent  to  treat  for  the  evacuation  of  Ulm  and  for  permission  for  the 
army  which  occupied  it  to  return  to  Austria.  The  French  them- 
selves allow  that  it  was  the  constant  practice  of  the  enemy's  gen- 
erals to  attempt  to  outwit  their  own,  whenever  Buonaparte  was 
not  on  the  spot.  The  Emperor  could  not  help  smiling  at  the 
proposal,  and  said,  "  What  reason  have  I  to  comply  with  this  de- 
mand ?  In  a  week  you  will  be  in  my  power  without  conditions. 
You  expect  the  advance  of  the  Russian  army,  which  is  scarcely 
in  Bohemia  yet;  and  besides,  if  1  let  you  go,  what  guarantee 
have  I  that  your  troops  will  not  he  made  to  serve  when  once  they 
are  united  with  the  Russians  ?  I  have  not  forgotten  Marengo.  I 
suffered  M.  de  Melas  to  go  ;  and  Moreau  had  to  fight  his  troops 
at  the  end  of  two  months,  in  spite  of  the  most  solemn  promises  to 
conclude  peace  *  There  are  no  laws  of  war  to  appeal  to,  after 
such  conduct  as  that  of  your  government  towards  me.  Most 
assuredly,  I  have  not  sought,  you  ;  and  then  again  I  cannot  rely 
on  any  engagements  into  which  your  General  might  enter  with 
me,  because  it  will  depend  on  himself  alone  to  keep  his  word.  It 
would  he  ii  ditleronl  tiling  if  you  had  one  of  your  Princes  in  Ulm, 
and  he  were  to  hind  himself;  but  I  believe  the  Archduke  is  cjone." 
Prince  Maurice  replied  in  the  best  manner  he  could,  and  pro- 
tested that  the  army  would  not  leave  the  place  without  the  con- 
ditions he  demanded.  '•  1  shall  not  grant  them.'7  rejoined  the 
Emperor ;  "there  is  the  capitulation  of  your  General  who  com- 
manded at  Mommingon  ;  carry  il  to  Marshal  Mack,  and  tell  him 
I  will  grant  no  other  terms.  Besides,  1  am  in  no  hurry;  the 
longer  he  delays,  the  worse  he  u  ill  render  his  situation  and  that 
of  you  all.  for  the  rest,  I  shall  have  the  corps  which  took 
Memmingen  here  to-morrow,  and  we  shall  then  sec." 

*  This  was  -what  was  called  ambition  in  Buonaparte;  because  he  had  to 
put  down  these  continual  breaches  of  faith  and  ever-springing  hopes  of  the 
subjugation  of  France. 


BATTLE   OF   AUSTERLITZ.  319 

Prince  Liechtenstein  was  conducted  back  to  Ulm.  The  same 
evening  General  Mack  wrote  a  letter  to  the  Emperor,  in  which 
he  plainly  stated  that  the  only  consolation  which  was  left  him  in 
his  misfortunes  was  his  being  obliged  to  treat  with  him  ;  that  no 
other  person  should  have  made  him  accept  such  mortifying  con- 
ditions ;  but  since  fortune  would  have  it  so,  he  awaited  his  orders. 
Next  morning  Bcrthier  went  to  Ulm  and  returned  in  the  evening 
with  the  capitulation,  by  which  the  whole  army  surrendered.  It 
was  to  march  out  with  the  honors  of  war,  file  off  before  the  French 
army,  lay  down  its  arms,  and  set  out  for  France,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  generals  and  officers,  who  had  permission  to  return 
home  on  condition  of  not  serving  till  a  complete  exchange.  For 
eight  days  that  the  French  troops  had  passed  before  Ulm,  it  had 
rained  incessantly  ;  all  at  once  the  rain  ceased,  and  the  Austrian 
army  filed  oil*  in  the  finest  weather  imaginable.  That  was  a  day 
glorious  to  France,  and  that  threw  back  once  more  to  a  perilous  dis- 
tance the  ever-returning,  undismayed  hope  of  tyrants  to  set  their 
feet  once  for  all  upon  the  necks  of  mankind  !  Mack  has  been 
loudly  accused  of  treachery  on  this  occasion,  without  any  positive 
grounds.  He  was  probably  under  the  influence  of  that  species 
of  fascination  which  takes  place  in  the  intellectual  as  well  as  the 
physical  world  from  an  apprehension  of  superior  power  ;  and 
which  rendered  him  incapable  of  summoning  resolution  to  moot 
the  danger  when  it  came,  as  it  had  before  deprived  him  of  the 
faculty  of  locomotion  to  avoid  it.  The  outrageous  revilers  of 
Mack  will  hardly  include  the  Archduke  Ferdinand  in  the  same 
censure,  who  yet  suffered  the  Austrian  force  to  be  cooped  up  in 
this  precarious  position  from  the  same  want  of  decision,  and  left 
it  to  its  fate  a  few  days  before.  Mack  was.  however,  guilt'.-  of  a 
greater  offence  than  even  the  surrender  of  Ulm  :  he  paid  Buona 
parte  a  visit  after  the  signature  of  the  capitulation  at  the  Abbe\ 
of  Flchingen,  who  drew  from  him  (as  men  are  communicative  in 
calamity)  the  secrets  of  the  Allies,  as  it  respected  their  new  engage- 
ments and  ulterior  objects.  Mack  was  afterwards  confined  in  an 
Austrian  dungeon  :  where  it  was  not  known  for  a  long  time'  what 
became  of  him.  General  Mathieu  Dumas  had  it  in  charge  tc 
accompany  him  back  to  Ulm  and  to  make  the  necessary  disposi- 
lions  for  the  ceremony  of  the  following  day.      The  French   armv 


320  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

was  drawn  up  in  order  of  buttle  on  the  neighboring  heights  ;  the 
dress  and  accoutrements  of  the  soldiers  being  put  into  the  best 
state  that  circumstances  would  admit.  The  drums  beat — the 
bands  played  ;  the  gates  of  Him  opened  ;  the  Austrian  army 
advanced  in  silence,  filed  eff  slowly,  and  went,  corps  by  corps, 
to  lay  down  its  anus  at  a  certain  spot  which  had  been  previously 
agreed  upon.  This  day  put  into  the  power  of  the  French  thirty- 
six  thousand  men  ;  six  thousand  had  been  taken  at  Memmingen. 
and  about  two  thousand  at  the  battle  of  Wertingen  ;  so  that  the 
total  loss  of  the  Austrians  could  be  estimated  at  little  short  of 
fifty  thousand  men,  with  seventy  pieces  of  cannon  and  about 
three  thousand  five  hundred  horses,  which  served  to  mount  a 
division  of  dragoons,  which  had  come  from  Boulogne  on  foot. 
The  ceremony  lasted  the  whole  day.  The  Emperor  (who  flung 
more  glory  into  one  day  then,  than  would  fill  up  whole  years 
now)  was  posted  on  a  little  hill  in  front  of  the  centre  of  his  army  ; 
a  large  fire  had  been  lighted,  and  by  this  fire  he  received  the 
Austrian  generals  to  the  number  of  seventeen.  lie  complained 
of  the  iniquitous  proceeding  of  their  Government  "  in  coining 
without  any  declaration  of  war  to  seize  him  by  the  throat  ;"  and 
said  that  ••  the  Aulic  Council  would  have  done  better  if  instead 
of  mixing  up  Asiatic  hordes  in  European  quarrels  it  had  joined 
with  him  to  repel  Ru.->sian  encroachment."  Tims  early  did  the 
dread  of  Russian  power  haunt  him  ;  and  so  clearly  did  he  think 
it  the  poliev  of  the  other  Continental  states  to  make  head  against 
it.  But  it  was  not  the  irruption  of  barbarism  winch  the}-  feared, 
but  t!i-'  progress  of  light  and  civilization!  A  trilling  circum- 
stance occurred  during  this  interview,  which  sets  Buonaparte's 
character  in  a  just  light.  An  officer  more  remarkable  for  his 
petulance  than  his  wit,  repeated  aloud  an  expression  as  coining 
from  one  of  the  soldiers,  tending  to  throw  ridicule  on  the  vau- 
aui-died.  Napoleon,  whose  ear  caught  up  every  tiling,  was 
highlv  displeased;  an!  si-nt  one  of  his  aidede-camps  to  tell 
thai  general  oftic  r  to  ivtire.  saving  to  those  near  him,  ■•  !!• 
must  have'  little  respect  1  >r  hims  If  \vh  >  insults  men  in  misfor- 
tu  if  !" 

The    Emperor   slept    ;i*    Elchingen,    and    set   out    next    day   for 
Augsburg,  where   he  1  <  !_:>  d   at  the  Bishop's  palace.      lie  stayed 


BATTLE   OF   AUSTERLITZ.  3»1 

there  only  time  enough  to  arrange  a  new  set  of  marches  for  the 
troops  and  then  departed.  He  had  learned  fresh  particulars  of 
the  approach  of  the  Russians.  Travellers  from  Lintz  had  seen 
the  first  troops  of  that  nation  enter  the  town,  and  place  themselves 
in  carts  and  waggons  collected  beforehand,  hastening  forward  to 
the  Rhine.  The  news  of  the  capture  of  Ulm  soon  after  reached 
their  commander-in-chief,  Kutusow,  and  made  a  change  in  his 
plans.  These  same  Russians  who  were  now  pressing  on  in  the 
full  confidence  of  their  brutality  and  ignorance  to  the  frontiers  of 
France  (like  a  herd  of  filthy  swine  snuffing  another  Poland)  and 
for  the  third  time  compelled  to  turn  back,  made  a  sad  outcry 
when  some  years  after  the  French  returned  the  intended  compli- 
ment— they  revenged  it  too  by  accident — God  knows  not  by  right, 
unless  failure  in  wrong  constitutes  a  right  ! — From  Augsburg 
Buonaparte  set  forward  for  Munich,  where,  though  the  Elector 
had  not  yet  returned,  he  was  well  received  by  the  Bavarians  ; 
and  the  city  was  illuminated.  The  French  army  now  crossed 
the  Iserovcr  all  the  bridges  from  that  of  Munich  to  that  of  Plading, 
and  approached  the  Inn.  The  Emperor,  with  a  large  portion  of 
the  army,  took  the  road  to  Miihldorf,  where  the  Russians  had 
just  been.  Beyond  this,  there  was  not  a  single  bridge  which 
they  had  not  burned,  thus  giving  a  foretaste  of  their  dexterity 
at  the  work  of  devastation  and  an  intelligible  warning  what  sort 
of  customers  they  were.  From  Miihldorf  the  Emperor  proceeded 
to  Burkhausen  and  thence  to  Brannau.  A  garrison  of  two  thou- 
sand Russians  left  in  the  latter  place  would  have  occasioned 
considerable  inconvenience  and  delay,  but  they  had  only  burned 
the  bridge  over  the  Inn.  The  bridge  at  Lintz  was  also  burned  : 
the  troops  here  crossed  to  the  left  bank  of  the  Danube,  and  were 
pushed  forward  by  slow  and  cautious  marches  into  Bohemia,  fol- 
lowing the  track  of  the  Russians.  At  Lintz  Buonaparte  received 
a  visit  from  the  Elector  of  Bavaria  and  his  son  ;  and  Duroc,  who 
bad  been  dispatched  on  a  mission  to  Berlin,  rejoined  him  in  that 
town.  He  brought  back  nothing  satisfactory  :  it  appeared  pretty 
certain  that  the  conduct  of  Prussia  would  be  governed  by  events, 
or  in  other  words  that  Napoleon  would  have  to  reckon  that  power 
too  among  his  enemies,  should  fortune  prove  unfavorable  to  him. 
lie  seems  to  have  drawn  the  natural  inference  that  should  fortune 

15* 


322  LIFE    OF   NAPOLEON. 


prove  favorable  to  him,  this  would  give  him  at  least  an  equal  right 
to  use  his  discretion  with  respect  to  Prussia — an  inference  (un- 
avoidable as  it  is]  which  has  been  aggravated  into  the  most  wanton 
cruelty  and  injustice  ! 

At  Lintz  also  the  Emperor  received  accounts  of  the  army  of 
Italy  and  of  the  retreat  of  the  Archduke  Charles  towards  Vienna, 
after  a  sanguinary  but  indecisive  action  with  Massena.  General 
G  Inlay,  one  of  the  officers  included  in  the  capitulation  of  I  dm, 
came  with  a  flag  of  truce  to  propose  an  armistice;  but  as  the  ob- 
ject evidently  was  to  gain  time  and  to  allow  the  Archduke  and 
the  Russians  to  form  a  junction  at  Yi<  una,  which  might  save  the 
Austrian  monarch}"  from  the  danger  which  threatened  it,  Buona- 
parte would  not  listen  to  it,  and  said  they  might  fight  and  treat  at 
the  same  time,  lie  also  observed  that  General  Giulay  had  no 
power  to  treat  for  the  Russians;  and  sent  him  back,  if  bis  inten- 
tions were  serious,  to  have  them  included  its  parties  in  the  armis- 
tice. Buonaparte  therefore  set  out  fir  Vienna  and  arrived  at  St. 
Pollen,  where  he  was  detained  a  day  or  two  'bv  a  severe  check 
which  one  of  Marshal  M  irtier's  divisi  >ns  bad  received  from  the 
Russians.  This  with  the  loss  of  three  eagles  vexed  the  Emperor  ; 
and  by  no  means  put  him  into  a  better  humor  for  agreeing  to 
General  Giulav's  proposals,  which  were  renewed  here.  On  the 
contrary,  the  troops  were  urged  on  to  Vienna,  and  Marshals 
Lannes  and  Murat  entered  that  capital  by  a  stratagem  of  war 
which  showed  a  good  deal  of  spirit  and  adroitness.  General 
.  was  -till  witli  the  Empi  i'i>r,  and  for  the  last  fortnight  there 
had  b'f-n  much  talk  of  an  armi>tice.  so  that  tli"  usual  strictness 
i  :'  liscipline  «'ii>  f'dax  •  d.  The  Au.-tri  ins.  placed  >  n  the  1  ■:';  bank 
of  tii"  Danube,  |i;M]  huwevi  i'  made  the  necessary  disp  isitions  lor 
f  the  Tabor,  ai  .   rely  e   vi  red  i:  by  a 

p  ;<!  of'  hussars.  Marshals  Lannes  and  Murat,  auxi  >us  to  save 
;:;;<   m-aus   of    <  rtant    to   the   a  rmv.    \vi  nt 

th    ms'  lvi  -  ace  mpanied  by  a  f-\v  otnecrs.  to  the  Austrian  papist  ; 

c  i!ivi-rsa".ioii  u  on    the    nun  irs   i  it'  an    : 

t;ee  ,  iii l- 1  w  nil"  th"ir  atti'til :  >n  was  thus  d  rawn  oil',  a  (.•ohiiiii)  of 
Lann  .  i  :.•    ■  ihci  r.  advanced 

!;i:  ■  ,._:i  the  suburbs  >  f  Vienna  in  the  island  of  the  Prater,  trained 
the  bri  .  ;m  !  after  throwing  into  the  water 


BATTLE   OF   AUSTERLITZ.  ZW 

all  the  fire-works  prepared  for  blowing  it  up,  seized  upon  the  can. 
non,  and  established  themselves  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  river. 
This  surprise,  which  was  executed  in  a  moment,  was  of  the  utmost 
consequence,  as  it  prevented  the  junction  of  the  Archduke  with 
the  Russians,  and  put  Vienna  with  all  its  stores  and  the  advan- 
tages it  possessed  into  the  hands  of  Napoleon.  He  was  much' 
pleased  with  the  success  of  this  bold  stroke,  and  fixed  his  head- 
quarters at  the  palace  of  Schonbrunn,  where  he  prepared  to 
manoeuvre  with  all  his  forces,  (which  were  pouring  into  Vienna 
from  every  quarter)  either  upon  the  Russians  or  the  Archduke 
Charles,  according  as  either  one  or  the  other  should  be  most  with- 
in his  reach. 

The  army  of  General  Kutusow,  which  had  recrossed  the  Dan- 
ube at  Stein  (and  which  if  it  had  proceeded  in  the  first  instance 
to  Vienna  might  have  given  a  different  turn  to  affairs)  was  march- 
ing by  Znaim  to  rejoin  the  main  Russian  army  at  Olmutz,  where 
the  Emperor  Alexander  was.  The  Archduke  Charles,  instead 
of  advancing  to  protect  the  capital,  was  obliged  to  turn  to  the 
right  so  as  to  gain  Hungary,  and  troops  were  instantly  marched 
upon  Presburg,  to  remove  still  further  off  the  possibility  of  his 
effecting  a  junction  with  the  Russians.  Mortier  and  Marmont 
outside  the  walls  of  Vienna  watched  the  roads  to  Italy  and  Hun- 
gary. Xey  was  still  in  the  country  of  Saltzburg  before  KufK, 
stein,  which  had  a  strong  garrison.  Napoleon  was  somewhat 
dissatisfied  that  Massena  had  not  come  up  in  time  to  join  mm 
before  lie  gave  battle  to  the  Russians.  He  set  out  for  Znaim  ; 
and  on  the  day  of  his  departure,  the  advance-guard  overtook  the 
Russian  rear-guard  under  Prince  Bagration,  and  had  a  severe 
action  with  it  at  Hollabrunn.  Both  parties  behaved  like  men,  and 
General  Oudinot  was  wounded.  Buonaparte  in  consequence 
gave  tin1  command  of  the  grenadiers  to  Duroc,  being  desirous  that 
he  should  distinguish  himself  during  the  campaign.  The  French 
picked  up  a  number  of  stragglers  and  sick  in  the  rear  of  the 
Russian  inarch.  They  appear  to  have  imbibed  thus  early  an 
overweening  contempt  for  their  doughty  antagonists  from  the  stu- 
pidity of  their  countenances.  But  stupidity  lias  its  advantages  as 
well  as  wit.  If  a  man  strikes  his  hand  against  a  piece  of  wood 
c*~  sU^o,  he  will  be  the   sufferer. — At   Znaim   the   Emperor  was 


324  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

informed  that  the  Russians  had  marched  by  the  road  to  Brunn ; 
and  he  made  the  army  take  the  same  road.  In  that  city  he  was 
joined  by  Bernadotte's  four  regiments  of  light  cavalry  under 
Kellermann  ;  they  had  come  by  the  Budweis  road,  and  had  left 
Bernadotte  and  his  corps  with  the  Bavarian  cavalry  under  General 
Wrcde  (which  was  worn  out  with  fatigue  in  its  pursuit  of  the 
Archduke  Ferdinand)  at  Iglau  in  Bohemia.  On  his  arrival  at 
Brunn,  Buonaparte  found  the  citadel  evacuated  and  the  magazines 
full  of  stores,  as  if  a  friend  had  just  quitted  the  place  ;  and  pushed 
on  that  same  evening  with  all  the  cavalry  to  Olmutz.  At  the 
first  post  they  fell  in  with  the  enemy's  rear-guard,  and  a  sharp 
action  ensued,  in  which  the  horse-grenadiers  of  the  guard  suc- 
ceeded in  cutting  the  Russian  line  in  two. — It  was  dark  before  this 
smart  affair  was  over.  The  Emperor  returned  to  Brunn,  and 
came  next  day  upon  the  ground,  where  it  had  occurred  to  him  to 
place  his  army,  which  was  coming  up  in  different  directions.  Pie 
moved  on  the  cavalry  of  the  advance-guard  to  Yichau  ;  went 
thither  himself,  and  on  his  return  walked  his  horse  over  all  the 
sinuosities  and  inequalities  of  the  ground  in  front  of  the  position 
which  he  had  ordered  to  be  taken.  He  paused  at  every  height, 
had  the  distances  measured,  and  frequently  said  to  his  attendants, 
"Gentlemen,  examine  the  ground  well  ;  you  will  have  a  part  to 
act  upon  it.;r  It  was  the  same  on  which  the  battle  of  Austerlitz 
was  fought,  and  which  was  occupied  bv  the  Russians  before  the 
battle.  He  passed  the  whole  day  on  horseback,  inspected  the 
p  isiti  m  of  each  of  the  corps  of  his  army,  and  remarked  on  the 
left  of  Gi  neral  Suchot's  divisi  m,  a  single  hillock  overlooking  the 
whole  front  of  that  division.  The  Centon  was  there,  as  if  for  the 
express  purpose :  herein;  had  brought  the  same  night  fourteen 
Austrian  pieces  of  cannon,  part  of  those  found  at  Brunn.  As 
caissms  could  not  he  placed  there,  two  hundred  charges  of  pow- 
der were  piled  up  behind  each  of  them;  the  foot  of  the  G  u1  :; 
was  then  cut  away  as  an  e>oarpment,  so  as  to  secure  it  fr 
sault.      The  Kmper  ir  returned  to  sleep  at  Brunn. 

Ah>r  the  occupation  of  Vienna  nod  the  affair  of  Hollabrunn. 
j\ap  >leou  was  strongly  .-  ilicited  by  all  about  him  to  make  peace. 
The  difficulty  was.  after  lie  had  made  it.  to  make  others  keep  it. 
Lie  was    nevertheless    himself  disposed    to    it;   but    the   Russians 


BATTLE   OF   AUSTERLITZ.  325 

Were  in  his  presence,  and  it  was  first  requisite  to  measure  his 
strength  with  them.  Two  envoys  arrived  from  the  Emperor  of 
Austria,  M.  Stadion  and  another,  announcing  the  arrival  of  a 
third  from  the  Emperor  Alexander  ;  but  the  Emperor  contented 
himself  with  referring  them  to  M.  Talleyrand,  who  was  expected 
at  Vienna,  of  which  General  Clarke  had  just  been  appointed 
governor.  It  was  at  this  period  that  Buonaparte  received  the 
news  of  the  battle  of  Trafalgar,  with  which  Nelson  closed  the 
career  of  his  triumphs  and  his  life.  The  French  fleet,  though 
superior  in  force,  was  not  only  beaten  but  destroyed  by  the  coin- 
age of  the  English  sailors  and  the  skill  of  their  daring  and  high- 
spirited  commander  ;  and  lias  remained  from  that  time  a  mere 
wreck  of  itself.  The  Spanish  Admiral  Gravina,  who  was 
wounded  in  the  fight,  died  in  consequence  ;  and  Villencuve  soon 
after  put  an  end  to  himself,  unable  to  bear  the  disgrace  of  so 
many  defeats  and  disasters.  This  event  took  place  on  the  21st 
of  October,  1805.  Buonaparte  seeing  all  his  hopes  of  naval  vic- 
tory thus  at  once  "  in  the  deep  bosom  of  the  ocean  buried,"  pro- 
bably thought  it  necessary  to  do  something  to  parry  the  blow,  and 
immediately  set  himself  about  it. 

He  had  been  several  days  at  Brunn,  when  he  ordered  the  corps 
of  Bernadotte  to  draw  nearer.  This  augured  the  approach  of 
something  decisive  :  but  he  wished  first  to  try  the  effect  or  to  gain 
the  credit  of  an  act  of  courtesy.  He  sent  for  one  of  his  aide-de- 
camps (Savary,  afterwards  Duke  of  Rovigo)  at  day-break  :  he  had 
passed  the  night  over  his  maps  :  his  candles  were  burnt  down  to 
the  sockets  ;  he  held  a  letter  in  his  hand,  and  after  being  silent 
some  moments,  he  abruptly  said.  "  Set  out  to  Olmutz  ;  deliver 
this  letter  to  the  Emperor  of  Russia,  and  tell  him  that  having 
heard  of  his  arrival  in  his  army,  1  have  sent  you  to  salute  him  in 
my  name.  [\  he  questions  you,"'  added  he,"  you  know  what  an- 
swer to  give  under  such  circumstances." — Savary  left  the  Emperor 
and  proceeded  to  the  French  advanced  posts  at  Vichau,  where  he 
took  a  trumpeter,  and  so  repaired  to  those  of  the  Russians,  onlv 
about  a  league  distant  on  the  road  to  Olmutz.  He  was  detained 
at  the  first  post  of  Cossacks,  till  notice  could  be  given  to  Prince 
Bagration,  who  sent  him  on  to  Olmutz  to  Ivutusow,  the  com. 
matider-in-chief :  this  journey  was  performed  through  the  whole 


.■528  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

Russian  army,  which  he  saw  assembling  and  taking  arms,  as 
the  morning  rose.  Kutusow  asked  him  for  the  dispatch  which 
he  had  brought  for  the  Emperor  ;  observing  that  he  slept  in  the 
fortress,  and  that  the  gates  could  not  he  opened  at  present.  lie 
went  away,  leaving  Savary  with  an  officer  belonging  to  the  Rus- 
sian staff,  among  whom  were  a  great  many  young  men  who 
crowded  round  and  talked  loudly  of  the  ambition  of  France  and 
n[  the  means  of  curbing  it.  At  ten  in  the  forenoon  a  bustle  took 
place  in  the  street,  and  on  inquiring  the  cause  of  it,  the  aide-de- 
camp was  told,  "  It  is  the  Emperor."  He  had  but  just  time  to 
throw  off  his  cloak,  and  take  his  dispatch  out  of  his  pocket-book, 
when  Alexander  entered  the  room  where  the  envoy  had  been 
waiting.  Me  made  a  motion  for  all  present  to  retire,  and  they 
were  left  alone.  Savary  was  struck  with  the  nobleness  of  the 
Czar's  figure  :  he  was  at  this  time  six-and-twenty.  He  was 
already  hard  of  hearing  with  lus  left  ear.  ami  turned  the  right  to 
hear  what  was  said  to  him.  lie  spoke  in  broken  sentences,  slowly, 
and  laying  a  stress  upon  the  last  syllables,  but  in  the  best  French, 
without  any  accent.  After  hearing  Savary's  message  and  taking 
the  letter,  he  said,  "  I  duly  appreciate  the  proceeding  of  your 
master  :  it  is  with  regret  that  1  have  armed  against  him,  and  1 
shall  seize  with  great  pleasure  the  first  opportunity  of  giving  him 
that  assurance.  lie  has  long  been  the  object  of  my  admiration." 
Then  changing  the  subject,  lie  said,  "  I  will  go  and  peruse  this 
letter,  and  bring  you  an  answer  to  it."  In  half  an  hour  Alexander 
returned  ;  and  holding  his  answer  with  the  address  turned  down- 
wards, entered  into  a  long  conversation  with  Savary,  in  which  he 
laid  it  down  in  a  dictatorial  but  go  -d-hum  in  d  tone,  that  France 
to    -how    her   moderation    and    good    faith    could   do   no  less  than 

e  all  she  had  been  lighting  for  during  the  last  ten  years, 
being  C'  ititcnted  with  th      .   i         :'         ting  the  Allies,  who  w  uld 

itii  that  time  (as  thev  could  lose  nothing  in  the  endj  stand 
in  the  same  awe  of  her  i  ncr  achments  an  i  ambiti  n.  \\  hen  this 
■   i  ti   n  was  ■  ver.  the  Kmperor   gave    Savary  bis   answer  to 

Iter  be  had  brought  from  Xap  h-on.  still  holding  the  a  idress 
r|  r\\  n wards,  and  adding — ••  lb  n-  is  mv  answer  :  the  address  does 
i.  :  express  the  title  he  has  >>1  late  assumed.  1  attach  no  impor- 
tune* to  such  trilles  ;'  — the  address  was — "To  tin- Chief  of  the 


I5ATTLE   OF   AUSTERLITZ.  327 


Flench  Government."  Nevertheless,  it  was  for  such  trifles  that 
Europe  had  been  at  war  for  the  last  ten  years,  and  continued  so 
for  the  next  ten. — Savary  was  then  conducted  back  to  the  ad- 
vanced posts  ;  and  on  his  way  saw  the  Russian  guards  pass  by, 
which  had  just  come  from  St.  Petersburg  to  join  the  army.  They 
were  composed  of  men  of  great  stature,  and  who  seemed  insensi- 
ble to  fatigue.  M.  de  Novosilzow  wished  to  accompany  the 
French  aide-de-camp  back  to  Brunn,  as  he  had  particular  busi- 
ness with  M.  de  Haugwitz,  who  was  expected  there  from  Berlin, 
but  this  wheedling  proposal  M.  Savary  declined.  He  found  Na- 
poleon at  the  post-house  at  Posorzitz,  three  quarters  of  a  mile 
from  the  last  out-posts,  and  gave  him  the  letter  and  an  account 
of  all  that  had  passed.  He  appeared  thoughtful  for  some  time, 
connecting  what  he  now  heard  with  the  hints  which  Mack  had 
dropped  at  Ulm  and  with  the  reported  defection  of  Prussia.  At 
length,  he  desired  Savary  to  return  with  all  speed  and  propose  an 
interview  with  the  Emperor  Alexander  for  the  morrow.  He  did 
so  accordingly,  and  the  Russian  Emperor  seemed  disposed  to 
grant  it  ;  but  on  a  report  that  the  French  were  retreating,  Napo- 
leon having  fallen  back  purposely  to  the  position  he  had  previ- 
ously chosen  for  the  battle,  Alexander  was  persuaded  to  send 
Prince  Dolgorouki  in  his  stead.  When  Buonaparte  heard  of 
his  arrival,  he  was  walking  in  the  bivouacs  of  the  infantry, 
where  he  had  slept  upon  some  straw.  Such  was  his  desire  for 
peace,  that  scarce  hearing  the  message,  he  mounted  his  horse, 
and  hastened  to  the  spot,  his  piquet  being  hardly  able  to  keep  up 
with  him.  He  alighted,  walked  alone  with  Prince  Dolgorouki  on 
the  high  road  ;  but  the  latter  gave  some  offence  by  what  he  said, 
for  Buonaparte  replied  sharply — "  If  that  is  what  you  have  to  sav 
to  me,  go  and  tell  the  Emperor  Alexander  that  I  had  no  notion  of 
these  expectations  when  I  asked  to  sec  him  ;  I  would  only  have 
shown  him  my  army,  and  referred  to  his  equitv  for  the  conditions 
of  a  peace  :  if  lie  will  have  it  so.  we  must  light  :  1  wash  my  hands 
of  it."  The  Prince  then  took  leave,  and  when  he  was  [rone,  the 
Emperor  made  his  aide-de-camp  repeat  over  and  over  all  that  had 
passed,  exclaiming  at  every  pause— "  But  those  people  must  be 
mad  to  insist  on  my  giving  up  Italy,  when  it  is  impossible  for 
them  to  take  Vienna  from  me.      What  plans  had  ihey  then,   and 


328  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

what  would  they  have  done  with  France,  if  I  had  been  beaten  ? 
Let  it  end  as  God  pleases  ;  but  by  my  faith,  before  eight-and- 
forty  hours  are  over,  I  shall  have  given  them  a  sound  drub- 
bing !" 

While  thus  speaking,  he  returned  on  foot  to  the  first  post  of  in- 
fantry of  the  army  ;  it  was  the  carbineers  of  the  17th.  The 
Emperor  was  irritated,  and  he  vented  his  impatience  by  striking 
with  his  switch  the  lumps  of  earth  lying  on  the  road.  The  sen- 
tinel, an  old  soldier,  overheard  him  ;  and  having  placed  himself 
at  ease,  he  had  his  gun  between  his  knees,  and  was  filling  his 
pipe.  Napoleon  as  he  passed  close  by,  looked  at  him  and  said. 
"  Those  Russians  fancy  they  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  swallow 
us  up  !"  The  old  soldier  immediately  joining  in  the  conversa- 
tion— "  Oho  !"  replied  he,  "  that  won't  be  such  an  easy  job — ■ 
we;ll  stick  ourselves  right  across  !"  This  sally  made  the  Empe- 
ror laugh  ;  and  resuming  his  composure,  he  mounted  his  horse, 
and  returned  to  head-quarters. 

lie  now  thought  of  nothing  but  preparations  for  the  battle, 
which  he  resolved  to  put  off  no  longer.  Bernadotte  had  joined 
him  with  two  divisions  of  infantry  ;  Souk  had  three  ;  Lannes 
two;  the  grenadiers  formed  a  strong  one;  the  foot-guards  one. 
Marshal  Davoust  had  one  within  reach  ;  the  Emperor,  besides  the 
light  cavalry,  had  three  divisions  of  dragoons,  two  of  cuirassiers, 
and  the  two  regiments  of  carbineers,  with  the  horse-guards.  He 
caused  abundance  of  provisions  and  ammunition  of  all  kinds  to 
be  brought  upon  the  ground  from  I'runn.  it  was  the  last  day  of 
November,  ls0.~>  ;  the  next  day,  the  1st  of  December,  lie  himself 
stationed  all  the  divisions  of  the  army,  seeming  to  know  the 
ground  as  well  as  the  environs  of  Paris.  Marshal  Davoust  occu- 
pied the  extreme  right,  being  in  communication  between  Brunn 
and  Vienna.  One  of  his  divisions  was  commanded  by  General 
Friant.  Marshal  Davoust  was  separated  by  ponds  and  long  nar- 
row defdes  from  Marshal  Soult,  who  was  opposed  to  the  left  of 
tin1  Russian  nruiv,  the  division  of  General  Legrand  forming  his 
right,  with  thai  of  St.  Ililairo  to  the  left  of  Legrand's,  and  Van- 
damme's  division  to  the  left  of  St.  Ililaire's.  In  the  second 
line,  behind  Marshal  Soult,  was  the  division  of  grenadiers,  and  on 
their  left  were  Bernadotte's  two  divisions.     On  the  left  of  Soult, 


BATTLE   OF  AUSTERLITZ.  329 

Lannes  was  posted  with  his  two  corps  on  a  ground  rather  in  ad- 
vance on  the  road  to  Olmutz,  near  the  Centon.  The  light  cav- 
alry were  placed  between  Lannes  and  Soult,  with  an  open  ground 
in  front,  the  dragoons  behind,  and  the  cuirassiers  with  the  horse- 
guards  at  a  short  distance.  The  Emperor  passed  the  whole  day 
on  horseback,  speaking  to  the  soldiers,  viewing  the  artillery,  ana 
inspecting  all  the  appurtenances  of  the  war.  He  dined  at  his  bi- 
vouac, where  he  was  met  by  all  the  marshals,  to  whom  he  en- 
larged on  what  might  happen  the  next  day.  The  Russian  army 
was  seen  arriving  the  whole  afternoon,  and  taking  up  a  position 
to  the  right  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off. 

In  the  evening  of  the  1st  of  December  there  was  an  irregu 
lar  firing  of  small  arms  to  the  right,  which  was  kept  up  so  late  as 
to  give  the  Emperor  some  uneasiness.  He  sent  to  see  what  it 
was  ;  and  it  turned  out  to  be  a  skirmish  between  General  Le- 
grand's  advanced-guard  and  the  Russians,  who  wished  to  gain 
possession  of  a  village  at  the  foot  of  their  position  for  the  purpose 
of  attacking  the  right  of  the  French  army  the  next  day.  The 
moon  at  first  shone  bright  ;  but  the  night  becoming  overcast,  they 
desisted,  and  merely  collected  their  force  together  on  that  point. 
The  aide-de-camp  who  had  been  sent  to  reconnoitre,  on  his  re- 
turn found  the  Emperor  lying  on  some  straw  in  a  hut  which  the 
soldiers  had  made  for  him,  and  so  fast  asleep  that  he  was  obliged 
to  shake  him  in  order  to  awake  him.  When  he  had  heard  the 
report,  he  desired  it  to  be  repeated ;  sent  for  Marshal  Soult  and 
mounted  his  horse  to  go  himself  and  inspect  his  whole  line  and 
see  this  movement  of  the  Russians  on  his  right :  he  approached 
as  near  to  it  as  possible.  On  his  return  through  the  bivouacs,  he 
was  recognized  by  the  soldiers,  who  spontaneously  lighted  torches 
of  straw  :  this  spread  from  one  end  of  the  army  to  the  other; 
ui  a  moment  there  was  a  general  illumination,  and  the  air  was 
rent  with  shouts  of  Vive  V Empcrcur  !  It  was  very  late  before  he 
returned  ;  and  though  he  continued  to  take  repose,  it  was  not  un- 
interrupted by  uneasiness  as  to  what  might  be  the  object  of  the 
movement  on  his  right  on  the  following  day.  He  was  awake  and 
stirring  by  day-break,  to  get  the  whole  of  the  troops  under  arms 
in  silence. 

There  was   a  thick  fog  which  enveloped   all    the  bivouacs,  so 

28  * 


530  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

that  it  was  impossible  to  distinguish  objects  at  any  distance. 
This  was  an  advantage  to  the  French,  and  gave  them  time  to 
form  their  ranks.  As  it  grew  light,  the  fog  seemed  disposed  to 
clear  off.  An  unbroken  silence  prevailed  to  the  very  extremity 
of  the  horizon  :  no  one  would  have  suspected  that  there  were  so 
many  men  and  so  many  noisy  engines  of  destruction  crowded  to- 
gether in  so  small  a  space.  Buonaparte  sent  again  to  reconnoitre 
the  position  of  the  Russians  to  the  right:  they  were  already  in 
motion;  but  the  remains  of  the  fog  made  it  difficult  to  distin- 
guish what  they  were  about.  It  was  scarcely  seven  in  the  morn- 
ing: at  length,  the  fog  cleared  off,  and  the  sun  rose  in  splendor. 
The  two  armies  appeared  almost  close  upon  one  another. 

The  Emperor  saw  his  whole  army,  infantry  and  cavalry, 
formed  into  columns.  lie  was  surrounded  by  his  marshals,  who 
teased  him  to  begin  :  but  he  resisted  their  importunities  till  the  fire 
of  the  Russians  on  the  right  became  brisker;  he  then  dismissed 
all  the  marshals  and  ordered  them  to  commence  the  attack.  The 
onset  of  the  whole  army  at  once  had  something  appalling  in  it: 
you  might  hear  the  words  of  command  of  the  different  officers. 
It  marched,  as  if  to  exercise,  to  the  very  foot  of  the  Russian  po- 
sition, halting  at  times  to  rectify  its  distances  and  direction. 
General  St.  Ililaire  attacked  the  front  of  the  Russian  position, 
called  in  the  language  of  the  country  the  hill  of  the  Pral/.er. 
lie  there  sustained  fir  two  hours  a  tremendous  tire  of  musketry, 
which  might  have  staggered  any  one  but  himself:  he  had  not  a 
battalion  thai  was  not  engaged  in  the  thickest  of  the  fight.  Van- 
damme,  who  had  more  space  to  traverse,  came  up  at  this  point  of 
time,  attacked  anil  overthrew  the  eiiemv's  columns,  and  became 
master  of  their  position  and  artillery.  The  Emperor  immediately 
marched  one  of  I>ernadotte\s  divisions  and  a  part  of  the  grena- 
diers to  the  aid  of  \  andamme  and  St.  Ililaire.  while  he  ordered 
Marshal  Lannes  to  lose  no  time  ju  falling  upon  tin1  right  of  the 
Russians,  that  they  might  not  (Mine  to  the  relief  of  their  left,  who 
were  wholly  occupied  in  defending  themselves.  They  would 
have  fallen  back,  and  re-ascended  the  Pratzer  ;  but  were  followed 
so  closelv  hv  General  Leerand  and  bv  briant's  division  (detached 
from  Marshal  Davoust)  that  they  were  obliged  to  stand  at  bay, 
neither  advancing  nor  retiring.      General  Vandamme  then,  under 


BATTLE   OF   AUSTERL1TZ.  331 

the  superintendance  of  Soult  and  supported  by  a  division  of  Ber- 
nadotte's,  made  a  sudden  change  of  direction  by  the  right  flank 
for  the  purpose  of  turning  and  enclosing  all  the  troops  engaged 
with  St.  Hilaire's  division.  This  movement  succeeded  ;  and  the 
two  divisions,  united  on  the  Pratzer  itself  by  this  manoeuvre, 
made  a  second  change  of  direction  still  wheeling  to  their  right, 
and  descended  from  the  Pratzer  to  attack  in  the  rear  all  the  troops 
opposed  to  General  Legrand,  thus  following  the  steps  of  the  Rus- 
sians the  night  before  and  making  a  complete  semicircle.  Buo- 
naparte seeing  how  things  went,  ordered  up  the  rest  of  the  grena- 
diers and  the  foot-guards,  to  complete  the  enemy's  disorder,  and 
thus  decided  the  battle.  He  instantly  dispatched  his  aide-de- 
camp, Lebrun,  to  Paris  with  the  news,  and  sent  off  messengers  to 
the  Electors  of  Bavaria  and  Wurtemberg. 

General  Vandamme  had  received  a  check  at  the  commence- 
ment of  his  first  change  of  direction,  the  fourth  regiment  of  the 
line  losing  one  of  its  eagles  in  a  charge  of  Russian  cavalry  ;  but 
the  accident  had  no  bad  consequences  from  the  timely  succor  of 
the  chasseurs  of  the  Guard  and  the  grenadiers  on  duty  about  the 
Emperor.  He  had  ordered  Bernadotte's  division,  instead  of  turn- 
ing round  upon  the  enemy  with  Vandamme's  the  second  time,  to 
go  right  forward  upon  the  infantry  of  the  Russian  guard.  It  did 
so  ;  broke  it,  and  drove  it  fighting  a  full  league  ;  but  it  returned 
back,  no  body  knew  why,  to  its  first  position,  where  to  his  gruat 
astonishment  Buonaparte  found  it  in  the  evening.  The  left  of 
the  French  army  under  Lannes,  and  the  cavalry  of  Murat  had 
in  the  meantime  broken  and  put  to  flight  the  whole  right  of  the 
[iussian  army,  which  at  night-fall  took  the  road  to  Austerlitz,  to 

join  the  relics  of  that  part  with  which  Marshal  Soult  had  been 
engaged.  Had  Bernadotte's  division  continued  marching  in  the 
direction  prescribed  to  it,  instead  of  falling  back,  it  would  have 
been  posted  across  the  road  from  Austerlitz  to  Hollitsch,  by  which 

lie  Russian  army  was  retreating,  and  thus  have  completed  its' 
destruction.  Bernadotte's  want  of  good-will  to  the  work  began 
about  this  time  to  lead  him  into  repeated  blunders  ;  and  probably 
his  blunders  helped  to  increase  his  ill-will.  All  the  Russian 
troops  that  had  descended  from  the  Pratzer  were  taken  prisoners 
on  the  spot.      There  were  left  on  the  field  of  battle  one  hundred 


332  LIFE   OF    NAPOLEON. 

pieces  of  cannon,  with  forty-three  thousand  prisoners  of  war,  ex- 
clusively of  the  wounded  and  slain  who  remained  on  the  ground. 
This  was  one  of  Buonaparte's  great  battles.  No  wonder  if  in  the 
end  he  became  swoln  and  as  it  were  choked  up  with  victories  ! 
lie  came  back  in  the  evening  along  the  whole  line,  where  the 
different  regiments  had  fought.  It  was  already  dark  :  he  recom- 
mended silence  to  those  who  accompanied  him  that  he  might  hear 
the  cries  of  the  wounded  ;  he  immediately  went  to  the  spot  where 
they  were,  alighted  himself,  and  ordered  a  glass  of  brandy  to  be 
given  them.  In  this  manner,  he  remained  till  very  late  upon  the 
held  of  battle;  his  escort  passed  the  whole  night  upon  it,  taking 
the  cloaks  from  the  Russian  dead  to  cover  the  wounded  with 
them.  He  himself  ordered  a  large  fire  to  be  kindled  near  each 
of  them,  sent  for  a  muster-master,  and  did  not  retire  till  he  ar- 
rived ;  and  having  left  him  a  picket  of  his  own  men,  enjoined 
him  not  to  quit  the  wounded  till  they  were  lodged  in  the  hospital. 
These  brave  men  loaded  him  with  blessings,  which  found  the  way 
to  his  heart  much  better  than  all  the  flatteries  of  courtiers.  He 
thus  won  the  affection  of  his  soldiers,  who  knew  that  when  they 
suffered  it  was  not  his  fault,  and  who  therefore  never  spared 
themselves  in  his  service.  It  was  so  late  when  they  arrived  at 
Brunn,  that  there  was  only  time  to  issue  the  order  to  Marshal 
Uavoust  to  collect  his  corps  and  pursue  the  Russians  the  foilow. 
ing  day. 


TREATY  OF  PRESBURG.  333 


CHATTER   XXXVI 


THE    TREATY    OF    PRESBURG. 


Ox  the  3d  of  December,  the  day  following  the  battle,  Prince 
John  of  Lichtenstein  arrived  at  the  castle  of  Austerlitz  charged 
with  a  message  from  his  master  to  solicit  an  interview  with  Na- 
poleon, to  which  the  latter  assented.  The  Emperors  both  of 
Austria  and  Russia  were  in  a  precarious  situation,  there  being  no 
escape  left  for  their  troops  in  the  line  of  retreat  on  which  they 
had  been  driven  but  the  bridge  of  Goding  at  Hollitsch,  to  which 
the  corps  of  Davoust  was  nearer  than  the  wrecks  of  the  Russian 
and  Austrian  army.  Napoleon  alone  knew  that  Davoust  was  in. 
ferior  in  numbers  to  the  Allies,  and  that  they  might  therefore  still 
force  their  way  through  him  ;  he  also  apprehended  the  accession 
of  Prussia  to  the  Coalition,  and  had  just  learned  by  intercepted 
dispatches  from  M.  Stadion,  that  the  Archduke  Charles  had  ar- 
rived on  the  Danube,  while  Massena  was  still  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Julian  Alps,  lie  therefore  granted  the  interview  which  had 
been  solicited,  in  the  hone  of  concluding  peace  and  avoiding  fresh 
hazards. 

On  the  4th,  at  nine  in  the  morning,  the  Emperor  set  out  with 
his  suite  and  guards,  and  proceeded  along  the  high-road  of  Hol- 
litsch to  a  mill  in  front  of  the  advanced  posts  of  Bcrnadotle,  about 
three  leagues  from  Austerlitz.  Napoleo^.  arrived  first,  and  or- 
dered two  fires  tn  be  made  ;  the  horseguurds  were  drawn  up  in 
order  of  battle,  two  hundred  paces  in  the  rear.  It  was  not  long 
before  the  Emperor  of  Austria  was  announced.  He  came  in  a 
landau,  accompanied  by  Princes  John  and  .Maurice  Lichtenstein, 
the  Prince  of  Wurtemberg,  Prince  Schwartzenberg,  Generals 
Kienmayer,  Bubna,  and  Stutterheim,  and  two  superior  officers  ot 
Ilulans.  There  was  with  the  Emperor  of  Austria  an  escort  of 
Hungarian  cavalry,  which  halted,  as  the  French  had  done,  abcut 


334  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

two  hundred  paces  from  the  spot  where  the  interview  was  held. 
The  Emperor  Napoleon,  who  was  on  foot,  went  to  meet  the  Em- 
peror of  Austria  from  the  place  where  the  fire  was  as  far  as  tho 
carriage,  and  embraced  as  he  accosted  him.  Prince  John  of 
Liechtenstein  alighted  from  the  same  carriage,  and  followed  the 
Emperor  of  Austria  to  the  Emperor's  fire:  there  he  remained 
during  the  whole  interview,  as  did  Marshal  Berthier  near  the 
Emperor.  All  the  other  persons  in  the  suite  of  the  two  Sove- 
reigns were  together  at  one  and  the 'same  fire,  which  was  sepa- 
rated only  by  the  high-road  from  that  of  the  Emperors.  The  con- 
versation here  turned  on  the  events  of  the  battle,  the  French 
studying  to  say  nothing  that  might  be  galling  to  the  feelings  of 
their  adversaries  ;  but  no  one  could  make  out  what  was  passing 
at  the  other  fire.  At  any  rate,  the  parties  seemed  to  be  in  excel- 
lent humor;  they  laughed,  which  was  construed  into  a  favora- 
ble omen,  and  accordingly  in  about  an  hour  the  two  Sovereigns 
separated  after  a  mutual  embrace.  The  attendants  then  ran  to 
do  their  duty,  and  as  they  approached.  Napoleon  said  to  the  Em- 
peror of  Austria,  "  I  agree  to  it;  but  your  Majesty  must  promise 
not  to  make  war  upon  me  again." — "  No,  I  promise  you  I  will 
not."  replied  the  Emperor  of  Austria,  "  and  I  will  keep  my  word." 
lie  did  so — after  the  manner  of  princes! 

The  day  was  drawing  to  a  close,  when  the  two  Emperors 
parted,  and  took  the  road  to  their  respective  armies.  Napoleon 
rode  his  horse  at  a  foot-pace,  musing  on  what  had  just  been  said 
and  on  what  he  meant  to  do.  He  called  to  General  Savarv,  and 
said,  '-linn  alter  the  Emperor  of  Austria:  tell  him  that  I  have 
desired  vou  to  go  and  wait  at  his  head-quarters  for  the  adhesion 
of  the  Emperor  of  Russia,  as  far  as  he  is  concerned,  to  what  has 
just  been  concluded  between  us.  When  vou  are  in  possession 
of  this  adhesion,  proceed  to  the  corps  d'armcc  of  Marshal  Davoust, 
stop  his  movement,  and  tell  him  what  has  happened."  But  the 
.  Tartar  had  taken  the  all'air  into  his  own  hands.  Savarv, 
According  to  the  instructions  of  the  Austrian  Emperor,  found 
Alexander  at  (Iodine  the  uexi  morning,  where  though  it  was 
onlv  fou"  or  five  o'clock,  he  was  alivadv  up;  and  his  sappers 
were  bu<v  in  preparing  to  destrnv  the  bridge,  as  s  ion  as  his  army 
should  have    passed,  which    it   did  shortly  after,  to  the  number  of 


TREATY   OF   PRESBURG.  333 

twenty-six  thousand  men,  without  cannon,  without  baggage-wag- 
gons, many  without  arms,  the  greater  part  without  knapsacks,*  a 
great  many  wounded,  but  still  whh  the  countenance  of  men  re- 
signed to  their  fortune  and  marching  intrepidly  in  their  ranks. 
At  the  interview  with  the  French  aide-de-camp,  Alexander  paid  a 
number  of  compliments  to  the  talents  displayed  by  his  master  in 
the  battle  a  few  days  before  ;  saying  at  the  same  time  that  it  was 
the  first  battle  he  had  been  in  ;  and  he  gave  his  word  to  comply 
with  all  that  the  King  of  the  Romans  had  stipulated  for  him. 
On  this  understanding,  he  received  an  assurance  that  he  and  his 
troops  should  retire  unmolested.  After  the  Russians  had  filed  off, 
the  bridge  of  Goding  was  destroyed  to  prevent  pursuit,  and 
Savary  returned  in  search  of  Davoust.  He  had  arrived  the  day 
before  within  a  short  half-league  of  the  bridge  of  Goding,  and 
was  preparing  to  force  his  way  to  it  through  an  Austrian  detach- 
ment, when  he  received  a  note  from  the  Emperor  Alexander  to 
inform  him  of  the  interview  between  the  Emperors  of  France  and 
Austria,  and  that  an  armistice  had  taken  place,  leaving  it  to  be 
supposed  that  he  himself  was  included  in  it.  Davoust  deemed  it 
his  duty  to  defer  to  the  positive  assurance  of  Alexander;  he  in 
consequence  suspended  his  movement,  and  accordingly  Savary 
found  him  on  the  morning  of  the  5th  in  the  same  place  where  he 
was  the  day  before,  and  the  Russians  at  a  safe  distance,  whereas 
on  the  preceding  day  he  might  in  half  an  hour  have  been  master 
of  Goding  and  of  the  bridge  over  the  Marche,  when  the  Russian 
army  was  still  two  or  three  leagues  off  on  the  Austerlitz  road, 
facing  Bernadotte.  It  was  at  the  moment  when  the  Emperor 
Francis  parted  from  the  Emperor  Alexander  to  go  to  the  inter- 
view with  Buonaparte  that  Marshal  Davoust  was  on  the  point  of 
forcing  Goding,  the  only  retreat  of  the  Russian  troops  ;  and  in 
this  critical  situation  the  Emperor  of  Russia  thought  fit  to  write 
that  note,  to  which  Marshal  Davoust,  out  of  respect  for  the  ve- 
racity of  the  monarch,  judged  it  right  on  las  part  to  give  credit, 
not  entertaining  the  least  idea  of  a  trick.  As  there  are  some 
characters  on  whom   no    reliance  can  be  placed  because  they  are 

-•:  Till  IS06.  the  Russian  infantry  laid  their  knapsacks  on  the  ground 
before  they  began  to  fire;  so  that  when  they  were  repulsed,  they  lost  all 
their  bae/rajje. 


536  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

sunk  below  contempt,  there  is  another  class  whose  word  is  not  to 
be  taken  because  they  are  raised  above  censure.  Savary  ven- 
tured to  drop  a  hint  of  what  he  suspected  to  some  Austrians  who 
were  with  him,  who  only  smiled.  His  eyes  were  then  opened, 
and  it  was  clear  enough  why  the  Emperor  of  Russia  had  ab- 
sented himself  from  the  interview  of  the  preceding  day,  and  why 
the  Emperor  of  Austria  had  come  to  it.  They  had  divided  be- 
tween them  the  two  parts,  which  were  to  extricate  them  from  the 
dilemma  in  which  each  found  himself.  When  Buonaparte  after- 
wards sent  General  Junot  to  the  Russian  army  to  treat  for  peace, 
the  Emperor  Alexander  had  set  off  for  Petersburg  ;  and  Junot 
not  thinking  it  his  business  to  follow  him,  brought  back  the  letter 
entrusted  to  him  by  the  Emperor,  who  was  on  his  return  to  Vi- 
enna. He  stopped  a  few  days  at  Brunn,  which  he  spent  in  dis- 
posing his  army  in  cantonments,  causing  its  losses  to  be  ascer- 
tained, inspecting  the  hospitals,  and  sending  by  some  of  his  aide- 
de-camps  a  gratuity  of  a  Napoleon  to  each  wounded  soldier,  and 
larger  sums  to  the  different  officers  in  the  same  situation.  There 
is  no  need  to  say  that  tin's  bounty  was  gratefully  received.  He 
also  took  an  opportunity  one  day  of  rating  Murat  soundly  for 
having  suffered  himself  to  be  deceived  by  a  false  report  and 
losing  the  chance  of  enclosing  the  Russian  army  on  the  3d  by 
not  pushing  forward  with  his  cavalry  to  Olmutz.  These  sound 
ratings  he  afterwards  paid  for  at  a  dear  rate.  Inferior  or  vain 
minds  see  no  distinction  between  just  and  unjust  blame  ;  and  sup- 
pose that  it  is  not  reason,  but  passion  and  petulance  that  speaks 
in  their  reproof. 

lie  then  set  out  f  )V  Schonbrunn  to  accelerate  the  conferences 
for  peace,  which  were  held  at  \  ienna,  and  also  to  see  how  he 
stood  with  Prussia,  for  several  days  M.  Ilaugwitz  had  been 
near  M.  Talleyrand;  but  he  had  kept  aloof  from  him,  hoping  that 
events  would  have  taken  a  di  lie  rent  turn,  as  his  mission  was  not 
to  make  peace  but  war.  The  Kmpi  ror  received  him  the  dav 
after  his  arrival  at.  Schonbrunn.  At  first  he  abstained  from  re- 
proaches, hut  he  let  him  see  that  he  was  not  the  dupe  of  the  de- 
signs of  Prussia,  lie  asked  the  meaning  of  the  Russian  army  at 
Breslau,  and  of  another  in  Hanover,  communicating  by  the  Prus- 
sian territory  with  the  main  armv.      At  last,   he  beiran  to   grow 


TREATY   OF   PRESBURG.  3J7 

warm  and  spoke  out :  "Sir,"  said  he,  "  is  this  conduct  of  your 
master's  towards  me  frank  and  sincere  1  It  would  have  been 
more  honorable  for  him  to  have  made  war  openly  upon  me,  though 
you  have  no  motive  for  it :  you  would  have  served  the  Allies, 
because  I  should  have  looked  twice  before  1  had  given  battle. 
You  wish  to  be  the  allies  of  all  the  world  :  that  is  not  possible  : 
yeu  must  choose  between  them  and  me.  If  you  are  resolved  to 
throw  yourselves  into  the  arms  of  those  gentlemen,  I  shall  not 
oppose  your  doing  so;  but  if  you  remain  with  me,  ]  wish  for  sin- 
cerity, or  I  will  separate  myself  from  you.  I  prefer  open  ene- 
mies to  false  friends.  If  your  powers  are  not  sufficient  to  treat 
on  all  these  questions,  qualify  yourself  to  do  so  :  for  my  part,  I 
shall  go  and  march  upon  my  enemies  wherever  they  are."  This 
address  was  delivered  with  great  warmth.  The  Emperor  looked 
down  on  M.  de  Haugwitz  from  the  elevated  position  on  which  he 
had  been  placed  by  victory  :  he  looked  down  too  on  baffled  spite 
and  detected  duplicity.  It  was  this  malice  at  once  smothered  and" 
laid  bare  which  afterwards  burst  forth  into  that  prodigious  flame 
of  patriotism  and  loyalty,  of  which  we  have  heard  so  much,  and 
of  which  (for  what  will  not  folly  and  madness  do  in  the  affairs  of 
men  ?)  we  have  seen  the  effects.  Because  Prussia  was  foiled  in 
her  design  to  crush  and  betray  France  then,  it  was  to  give  her  the 
right  along  with  the  inclination  to  do  so  afterwards.  The  debt 
of  enmity,  not  paid,  accumulates  both  principal  and  interest. 
Buonaparte  had  Prussia  at  this  time  at  his  mercy,  and  spared  her. 
Of  course,  this  was  not  a  thing  to  be  soon  forgiven. 

Circumstanced  as  Buonaparte  then  was,  with  the  Austrians 
held  in  check  and  the  Russians  gone,  he  might  in  a  few  marches 
have  turned  the  whole  Prussian  monarchy.  In  this  situation,  M. 
Haugwitz,  though  contrary  to  his  instructions,  thought  it  best  to 
patch  up  a  treaty  with  France,  by  which  Hanover  was  ceded  to 
Prussia  in  lieu  of  the  Margravates,  and  he  was  in  hopes  that  this 
bait,  would  sweeten  the  bitter  alternative  to  his  master.  But  while 
he  was  signing  the  treaty  with  France  at  Vienna,  M.  Harden- 
berg,  ignorant  of  the  events  at  Austerlitz,  had  signed  another  at 
Berlin  with  the  Ambassador  of  England.  M.  Haugwitz  met  the 
bearer  of  this  intelligence  half-way  between  Vienna  and  Berlin, 
to  which  latter  place  he  was  hastening  to  procure  the  ratification 

vol.  n.  16  29 


318  LTFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

of  the  King  to  the  convention  with  Napoleon.  But  that  monarch 
loudly  expressed  his  disapprobation  of  what  had  been  done  :  nev- 
ertheless, unable  to  go  to  war  and  as  ill  brooking  peace,  not 
knowing  how  to  fulfil  or  disentangle  himself  from  so  many  oppo- 
site engagements,  he  hit  upon  a  middle  course  between  his  inter- 
est  and  his  honor,  which  was  to  keep  Hanover  as  a  pledge  till  the 
peace.  Austria  obtained  such  a  peace  as  in  her  disastrous  con- 
dition she  might  expect.  She  lost  the  old  Venetian  States,  which 
were  annexed  to  the  kingdom  of  Italy.  She  also  had  to  give  up 
to  Bavaria  the  Tyrol  and  the  country  of  Saltzburg,  with  some 
possessions  in  Suabia,  and  lastly,  the  Brisgau  to  the  Grand-Duke 
of  Tuscany.  By  the  same  treaty,  the  Electors  of  Bavaria  and 
Wurtemburg  were  made  kings,  and  the  Margrave  of  Baden 
Grand-Duke.  Had  Junot  followed  the  Emperor  Alexander  to 
St.  Petersburg,  it  is  possible  peace  might  have  been  concluded 
that  year.  England  too  might  have  been  included  in  it,  had  it 
been  possible  for  England  to  submit  to  peace  ! 

Before  his  departure  from  Vienna,  Napoleon  learned  the  news 
of  the  joint  entry  of  the  Russians  and  English  into  Naples.  Ht 
had  an  old  quarrel  with  the  Queen  of  Naples,  who  conceived  her- 
self privileged  both  as  a  queen  and  a  woman  to  do  whatever  she 
pleased.  The  interference  of  this  double  and  uncontrolled  sway 
in  the  affairs  of  mankind  is  too  much  to  be  borne  ;  nor  is  there 
any  cure  for  it  but  the  taking  away  the  power  to  indulge  in  its 
caprices.  "  As  for  her,"  exclaimed  Napoleon,  on  hearing  of  this 
new  breach  of  faith,  "I  am  not  surprised  at  her  conduct:  but 
woe  betide  her  if  I  enter  Naples — never  shall  she  set,  foot  there 
njxain  !"  He  sent  officers  from  his  staff  to  compose  that  of  the 
armv  about  to  assemble  on  the  Neapolitan  frontiers;  -i^xl  ordered 
his  br  ither  J  >seph  (whom  he  had  left  at  Paris  to  preside  over  the 
Council  of  Ministers  in  his  absence)  to  <jn  and  take  the  command 
of  that  armv.  He  also  received  some  unpleasant  intelligence  of 
another  description  from  Paris.  There  bad  been  a  considerable 
run  upon  the  national  bank  :  and  the  funds  had  fallen  suddenly. 
This  caused  him  some  anxietv  and  increased  hi-  impatience  to  be 
at  home.  On  investigating  the  matter,  he  found  that  the  panic 
had  arisen  from  sinister  reports,  with  which  some  of  those  harbin- 
gers of  mischief  who  had  been  suffered  to  return  and  infest  their 


TREATY   OF   PRESBURG.  339 

old  haunts  in  the  Fauxbourg  St.  Germain  (and  who  wished  their 
country  ill  because  they  deserved  ill  of  it)  had  chosen  to  fill  up 
t'ne  pause  that  precedes  the  signal  of  defeat  or  victory  ;  and  also 
from  an  indiscreet  (and  as  it  might  have  proved,  ruinous)  appro- 
priation of  eighty  millions  of  the  public  revenue  to  purposes  of 
private  speculation.*  This  temporary  withdrawing  of  the  public 
money,  which  was  concerted  by  persons  immediately  employed 
by  government  and  well  affected  to  it,  might,  if  Buonaparte  had 
met  with  reverses  in  Moravia,  have  been  fatal  to  him.  Such  is  the 
rash  and  incontinent  activity  of  the  French  character  !  It  is  sin- 
gular enough  that  the  Austrians  were  obliged  to  pay  the  first  in- 
stalments of  the  contributions  levied  upon  them  out  of  the  subsi- 
dies sent  over  from  England,  and  that  the  French  commissioner, 
M.  Bourienne,  went  to  Hamburgh  to  receive  them. 

A  circumstance  occurred  at  this  period,  which  places  the 
character  of  the  Emperor  in  a  true  and  amiable  light.  During 
his  residence  at  Vienna,  between  the  buttle  of  Austerlitz  and  the 
signature  of  the  peace,  he  had  occasion  to  remark  a  young  female 
who  pleased  him.  As  chance  would  have  it,  she  had  herself 
taken  a  particular  fancy  to  the  Emperor,  and  she  accepted  a 
proposal  made  to  her  to  go  one  evening  to  the  palace  of  Schori- 
bruun.  She  spoke  only  German  and  Italian  ;  but  as  the  Em- 
peror himself  spoke  the  latter  language,  they  easily  became  ac- 
quainted. He  was  surprised  to  learn  from  this  young  woman, 
that  she  was  the  daughter  of  respectable  parents,  and  that  in 
coming  to  see  him  she  had  been  swayed  by  an  admiration  which 
had  excited  in  her  heart  a  sentiment  she  had  never  yet  felt  for 
any  other  person.  This,  though  a  rare  circumstance,  was  ascer- 
tained to  be  a  fact :  the  Emperor  respected  the  innocence  of  the 
young  lady,  sent  her  home,  had  arrangements  made  for  her 
settlement  in  life,  and  gave  her  a  portion.  Another  interview 
was  talked  of  with  a  celebrated  German  countess,  the  favorite  of 
an  English  nobleman,  which,  it  is  said,  had  it  taken  place,  might 
have  ended  more  tragically.  Buonaparte  was  put  on  his  guard, 
and  the  assignation  was  dropped.      A  few  days  before  his  leaving 

*  This  alludes  to  a  transaction  between  the  members  of  the  French  Vic 
tuallinK-oifice  and  the  Prince  of  Peace  to  supply  the  Spanish  navy  with 
provisions  at  a  certain  profit. 


3*0  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

Vienna,  the  Archduke  Charles,  for  whom  the  Emperor  had  great 
esteem,  solicited  an  interview  with  him.  They  met  at  a  hunt- 
ing-seat, called  La  Venerie,  near  Schdnbrunn,  and  conversed 
together  for  a  long  time  in  an  apartment  by  themselves. 

The  Emperor  on  leaving  Vienna  passed  through  Schard.'ng 
and  Passau,  when/  he  met  General  Lauriston,  whom  he  sent  as 
governor  to  Venice.  He  arrived  at  Munich  a  few  days  before 
new-year's  day,  1800.  The  Empress  was  there,  having  come 
to  witness  the  marriage  of  her  son,  the  Viceroy  of  Italy,  with  the 
Princess  Augusta  of  Bavaria.  It  was  celebrated  with  great 
poinj),  and  the'  festivities  lasted  for  a  week.  A  match  had  been 
talked  of  between  the  Princess  Augustaand  the  Prince  of  Baden; 
but  this  was  broken  off,  and  the  Prince  gave  his  hand  soon 
after  to  Mademoiselle  Stephanie  Beauharnais,  a  niece  of  Josephine. 
The  Viceroy  returned  to  Milan  ;  and  Buonaparte  to  Paris,  where 
he  arrived  towards  the  end  of  January.  Shortly  after  the  Em- 
peror's return,  accounts  were  received  of  the  occupation  of 
Naples  by  the  French  troops.  The  remainder  of  the  winter  was 
spent  in  fetes  and  amusements.  Murat  was  invested  witii  the 
sovereignty  of  the  grand-duchy  of  Berg,  which  Bavaria  had 
ceded  to  France.  M.  Talleyrand  received  the  principality  of 
Benevento,  anil  Marshal  Bernadotte  (contrary  to  the  expectation 
of  many  people)  that  of  Ponto-Corvo,  both  in  the  kingdom  of 
Naples.  The  Prince  of  Baden  came  to  Paris  to  conclude  his 
marriage,  which  was  celebrated  in  the  chapel  of  the  palace. 
On  this  occasion  magnificent  entertainments  were  given  at  the 
Thuilleries.  The  ladies  of  the  court,  most  of  whom  were  dis- 
tinguished fur  grace  and  spirit,  danced  in  character  at  the  halls; 
and.  these  fetes,  independentlv  uf  the  immediate  interest  attached 
to  them,  presented  all  the  elegance  and  splendor  of  enchanted 
pageants.  "Tis  gone  like  a  i'airv  revel  ;  nor  in  the  round  of 
ewr-rolling  years  will  the  like  he  seen  airain  to  humble  and  to 
exalt  all  that  there  is  of  pride  in  the  heart  of  man.  Vet  why 
complain  of  the  void  that  is  let':  !  If  such  tilings  happened  every 
day.  there  would  be  nothing  in  them  :  it  is  enough  that  they  sur- 
vive in  poetry  and  history.  If  a  Buonaparte  or  a  Charlemagne 
appears  once  in  a  thousand  vears.  it  ^rives  the  world  something  to 
think  of  in  the  interim  !     During  the  same  winter,  he  determined 


TREATY   OF   PRESBURG.  341 


to  place  the  crown  of  Naples  oa  the  head  of  his  brother  Joseph  : 
and  twelve  senators  were  deputed  to  invest  him  with  the  sover- 
eignty. The  Emperor  also  resolved  to  change  the  government 
of  Holland,  by  substituting  the  monarchical  for  the  elective  form 
(not  a  change  for  the  better  ;)  and  the  choice  of  the  leading  men 
of  the  country,  who  were  at  this  time  favorable  to  France,  fell 
on  Prince  Louis,  the  Emperor's  brother,  who  accepted  with  some 
reluctance  the  crown  that  was  offered  him.  Thus  the  battle  of 
Austerlitz  had  the  effect  of  creating  three  new  kings  and  match- 
ing plebeian  with  princely  blood.  Such  was  the  commencement 
of  that  system  by  which  Buonaparte  "  made  kings  his  sentinels 
and  thrones  his  Martello  towers  ;"  led  youth  and  beauty  as  a 
sacrifice  or  a  lure  to  the  shrine  of  his  ambition  or  policy,  and 
stood  on  the  ground  of  the  Revolution  to  clasp  the  hand  of  its  old  and 
natural  enemies  in  close  and  hollow  fellowship.  If  all  this  was  but 
a  masque,  ii  was  a  gorgeous  one  :  those  who  were  the  most  nearly 
concerned  and  the  best  judges,  felt  it  to  be  something  more,  and 
resolved  to  make  another  effort  to  dispel  "  the  horrible  shadow  !" 

Several  medals  and  other  trophies  were  executed  to  commem- 
orate the  battle  of  Austerlitz.  Soon  after  his  return  to  St.  Cloud, 
M.  Denon,  who  had  the  chief  superintendance  of  works  of  art, 
came  to  the  Emperor  while  at  breakfast,  bringing  with  him  a  se- 
ries of  medals  on  this  subject.  It  commenced  with  the  departure 
of  the  army  from  the  camp  at  Boulogne  to  proceed  towards  the 
Rhine.  The  first  represented  on  one  side  a  head  of  Napoleon, 
and  on  the  other  a  trench  eagle  holding  fast  an  English  leopard. 
"  What  does  this  mean  ?"  said  Napoleon.  "  Sire,"  said  M. 
Denon,  "  it  is  a  French  eagle  strangling  in  its  talons  the  leopard, 
one  of  the  emblems  of  the  coat-of-arms  of  England.'"'  The  atten- 
dants were  astonished  to  see  Napoleon  throw  this  gold  medal  with 
the  utmost  violence  to  the  other  end  of  the  room,  thus  addressing 
M.  Denon  :  "  Vile  flatterer  !  how  dare  you  tell  me  that  the 
French  eagle  strangles  the  English  leopard,  when  I  cannot  send 
out  to  sea  the  smallest  fishing-boat  that  the  English  do  not  seize 
upon  ?  It  is  indeed  the  Leopard  that  strangles  the  French  eagle. 
Let  this  medal  be  instantly  destroyed,  and  never  present  :my  of 
the  same  kind  to  me  again."  Looking  over  the  rest  of  these 
medals,  and  taking  up  the  one  relating  to  the  battle  itself,  he  found 


342  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

fault  with  the  design,  and  desired  M.  Denon  to  have  it  recast. 
"  Put  only  on  one  side,  Battle  of  Austerlitz,  with  the  date,  and  on 
the  opposite  side  the  eagles  of  France,  Austria,  and  Russia; 
trust  me,  posterity  will  be  at  no  loss  to  distinguish  the  victor.'*' 
This  simple  idea  of  Napoleon's  was  nevertheless  not  completely 
carried  into  effect  ;  instead  of  the  eagles,  were  introduced  the 
heads  of  the  three  Emperors.  It  is  easy  to  perceive  from  this 
account  that  the  greater  part  of  those  pompous  inscriptions,  of 
ihose  extravagant  compliments,  set  forth  with  so  much  eclat  and 
displayed  on  so  manv  public  monuments,  were  not  to  the  taste  of 
""Napoleon,  much  less  of  his  suggesting.  Few  men  in  his  place 
would  have  manifested  the  same  moderation  and  simplicity.  It  was 
the  same  sentiment  of  delicacy  which  made  him  refuse  Marsha] 
Kellermann,  who  had  been  deputed  by  a  large  body  of  his  fello\1 
chizens,  permission  to  erect  at  their  proper  cost  a  monument  ex- 
pressly in  honor  of  him.  This  trophy  Napoleon  could  only  hope 
to  merit  by  the  course  of  his  whole  life.  Such  was  his  reply  ; 
and  if  his  statue  was  afterwards  fixed  at  the  top  of  the  pillar  in 
the  Place  Ycndoine,  it  was  originally  intended  that  the  column 
should  be  solely  in  honor  of  the  French  armies,  and  the  statue 
was  to  have  been  one  of  Peace.  The  architect  Poyet  had  also 
proposed  to  raise  a  triumphal  pillar  in  honor  of  the  Emperor,  but 
could  n>t  obtain  his  consent.  If  the  brazen  column  built  of  the 
cannon  won  by  victory  excited  admiration,  the  sixty-five  fountains 
which  in  the  same  year  first  poured  their  waters  through  the  cap- 
ital, inspired  the  public  :rratitu  je,  and  proved  beyond  dispute  that 
the  Chief  of  the  State  was  much  more  occupied  in  setting  on  foot 
works  of  public  utility  than  those  of  a  vain  iflorv.  \\\  the  course 
of  his  administration,  all  that  was  really  err.  at  and  useful  came 
from  himself;  while  what  appertained  to  luxury  and  outward 
show,  was  the  indirect  result  of  the  powerful  impulse  that  had 
been  eriven  to  the  Pine  Art-,  and  of  the  passionate  admiration 
due  to  one  who  had  achieved  so  many  victories  and  so  many  titles 
to  renown.* 

*  The  cannon  taken  at  Austerlitz  were  not  all  mfi'le  use  of  to  erect  the 
column  in  th>>  Pl;a  V>-/r;6;n".  M.  Gau'lin.  Minister  of  Finance,  came  ono 
day  to  Napoleon  to  demand  a  score  of  these  camion  for  his  own  use.  "What 
'-Leu  '.'"  exclaimed  the  emperor,   ■■is  our  minister  of  Finance  going  to  make 


TREATY   OF   PRESBURG.  343 

In  the  spring  of  1806,  Russia  had  made  no  declaration  of  her 
intentions  ;  Austria  had  hut  ill  executed  the  conditions  of  the 
treaty  ;  Prussia  was  restless  and  uneasy,  and  England  was  at  her 
old  work.  The  Emperor,  uncertain  of  the  future,  sought  to 
strengthen  his  interests  in  the  East,  and  sent  General  Sebastiani, 
who  was  just  recovered  of  a  severe  wound  received  at  the  hattle 
of  Austerlitz,  as  his  ambassador  to  Constantinople.  In  the  be- 
ginning of  that  year,  however,  Mr.  Pitt  died,  and  Mr.  Fox  suc- 
ceeded him,  which  gave  a  short  deceitful  gleam  of  hope  to  the 
world.  While  Mr.  Pitt  lived,  war  was  certain  ;  his  death  oifered 
a  bare  chance  of  peace.  lie  had  long  been  the  mouth-piece  of 
the  war-party,  and  the  darling  of  that  part  of  the  aristocracy  who 
wished  to  subdue  the  popular  spirit  of  English  freedom,  to  get  the 
whole  power  of  the  country  into  the  hands  of  a  few  borough- 
mongers,  and  of  course  to  crush  and  stifle  the  example  and  the 
rising  flame  of  liberty  everywhere  else.  The  perverse  schemes 
of  this  party,  the  rooted  instinct  of  power  in  the  hearts  of  kings, 
Mr.  Pitt  clothed  with  a  drapery  of  words,  an  everlasting  tissue 
of  rhetorical  common-places,  not  to  express,  but  to  disguise  them, 
and  to  make  it  impossible  ever  to  disentangle  them  from  the  dark 
recesses  of  pride  and  passion  in  which  they  lurked.  Without  a 
heart  or  natural  affections,  without  a  head  to  conceive  of  good  or 
a  hand  to  execute  even  the  had  he  meditated,  this  parliamentary 
automaton  was  a  sort  of  lay-figure  to  hang  a  waving  tapestry  of 
gaudy  phrases  upon,  so  as  to  screen  the  designs  of  Ministers  and 
baffle  Opposition.  Engaged  in  a  quarrel  that  was  never  to  have 
an  end,  and  for  an  object  that  must  be  kept  in  the  back-ground,  it 
u as  necessary  to  have  a  set  of  plausible  excuses  always  ready, 
;hat  applied  to  everything  because  they  really  meant  nothing,  and 
to  fmd  out  an  orator  to  ring  the  changes  on  them  in  measured  and 
lofty  periods,  to  whom  no  fact,  feeling,  or  image'  in  his  own  breast 

war  upon  as.'" — "No,"  replied  the  Duke  do  Gaota.  "not  upon  you.  but  on 
some  villainous  old  machines  that  kill  the  workmen  in  the  mint :  and  if  your 
Majesty  will  give  me  twenty  of  these  cannon  to  reconstruct  the  beams  of 
the  engines.  I  will  have  the  name  of  Austerlitz  engraved  upon  them."'  This 
appeal  prevailed  ;  M.  Gaudiu  had  the  cannon  placed  at  his  disposal:  and 
these  engines  are  still  used  to  stamp  the  heads  on  the  coin  of  the  present 
kiu^s  of  France ! 


344  LIFE   OF   JS'APOLEON. 


ever  suggested  the  reality  of  anything  but  words,  and  to  whom  the 
shriek  of  death  or  the  erics  of  despair  were  lost  in  the  sound  of 
his  own  voice.  If  we  were  at  war,  it  was  for  "  the  existence  of 
social  order,"  a  term  that  included  between  its  extremes  the  high- 
est liberty  or  the  worst  despotism  :  if  we  did  not  make;  peace,  it 
was  because  "existing  circumstances"  would  not  permit  us — 
no  matter  whether  those;  circumstances  were  prosperous  or  ad- 
verse, whether  it  was  we  who  would  not  make  peace  with  the 
enemy  or  the  enemy  who  would  not  make  peace  with  us.  It 
was  impossible  to  drive  the  Minister  out  of  his  routine  of  ver- 
biage or  to  force  an  explanation  from  him  that  admitted  of  being 
either  verified  or  disproved  ;  and  with  these  and  a  few  more 
phrases  of  the  same  stamp  be  served  the  ends  of  his  employers, 
deluded  Parliament,  and  brought  the  country  to  the  brink  of  ruin. 
He  died  when  the  power,  which  Ik;  bad  pledged  himself  to  de- 
stroy or  to  be  destroyed  by  it,  bad  nearly  attained  its  utmost 
height;  and  the  best  tiling  that  can  be  said  for  him  is  that  the 
defeat  of  all  bis  plans  and  predictions,  either  from  pride  or  shame, 
probably  caused  his  death. 

Mr.  Fox  would  no  doubt  have  tried  to  save  both  countries  from 
the  alternative  to  which  -Mr.  Pitt's  policy  wished  to  force  them, 
hut  with  what  success  or  degree  of  firmness  is  not  so  certain.  He 
had  always  been  Mr.  Pitt's  ablest  and  most  strenuous  antagonist 
in  that  ruthless  career  of  ambition  and  servility  to  which  his  rival 
lent  himself;  and  the  debates  between  them  on  the  question  of 
peace  or  war,  (particularly  in  IT'JT  and  17!H,  before  Mr.  Pitt 
went  out  of  office)  were  some  of  the  most  equallv  sustained,  the 
most  animated  and  characteristic  in  the  records  of  our  parliament- 
ary eloquence.  The  great  leader  of  Opposition  was  a  man  of 
impulse  and  feeling,  generous  and  sociable  to  a  fault,  sanguine  in 
tee  cause  of  libertv  and  truth,  and  a  man  of  a  plain,  strait- for  ward, 
but  strong  and  well-stored  understanding.  He  had  not  been  the 
dupe  of  Mr.  liurke's  romantic  and  fanciful  view  of  the  French 
Revolution,  with  bis  hi<di-eolorcd  descriptions  of  the  Queen  of 
k ranee  and  the  rest  of  bis  apparatus  for  theatrical  efled  ;  for  Mr. 
Fox.  with  that  justness  of  thought  which  is  the  result  of  good- 
ness of  heart,  saw  or  felt  that  the  whole  drift  of  Mr.  Burke's 
theory   went   to   male    politics   a   question    or    department   of  the 


TREATY   OF   PRESBURG.  345 

imagination,  and  that  this  could  never  be  true,  because  politics 
treat  of  the  public  weal  and  the  most  general  and  wide-extended 
consequences,  whereas  the  imagination  can  only  be  appealed  to 
by  individual  objects  and  personal  interests,  and  must  give  a  false 
verdict  in  all  other  cases.  It  would  never  do,  he  saw,  to  make 
choice  of  half  a  dozen  dramatis  personce,  to  adorn  them  with 
tropes  and  figures,  and  sacrifice  to  this  paltry  foreground  and  me- 
retricious embellishing  the  welfare  of  millions,  who  because  they 
were  millions  could  never  be  brought  forward  by  the  imaginative 
faculty  and  could  only  be  weighed  in  the  balance  of  abstract 
truth  and  reason.  Neither  did  lie  sutler  himself  to  be  entangled 
in  the  mazes  of  Mr.  Pitt's  verbal  sophistry.  lie  shook  oif  with 
honest  indignation  the  trammels  of  words  which  were  attempted 
to  be  thrown  over  him  like  an  enchanter's  web  ;  cleared  away 
the  obvious  facts  from  the  cloud  of  technical  distinctions  rolled 
over  them,  strove  hard  (Antaeus-like)  to  keep  the  question  on  the 
ground  of  common  sense  and  feeling,  which  the  other  wished  to 
resolve  into  airy  generalities  and  lofty  assumptions  ;  and  in  real- 
ity, Mr.  Fox  succeeded  so  far  as  it  was  possible  with  so  disin- 
genuous and  artful  an  opponent,  and  with  the  prejudices  of  his 
hearers  against  him.  Even  those  on  the  ministerial  side  con- 
fessed that  .Mr.  Fox  often  convinced  them  while  he  spoke,  by  his 
forcible  and  manly  appeals,  till  Mr.  Pitt  rose  and  clouded  over 
their  apprehensions  again  with  a  flimsy  arrangement  of  stately 
but  undefined  topics. 

Mr.  Fox  on  his  accession  to  office  on  the  death  of  his  predeces- 
sor iiad  a  difficult  task  to  perform — neither  to  forfeit  his  popular- 
ity nor  to  offend  power.  He  had  hardly  nerve  for  both.  His 
virtue  was  more  owing  to  constitution  than  principle;  and  though 
an  honest  man,  he  was  not  incorruptible.  lie  had  a  great  deal 
of~good-nature  in  his  composition,  and  good-natured  men  are  sel- 
dom qualified  to  be  martyrs.  He  was  a  patriot,  but  liable  to  be 
led  away  by  the  weakness  of  party  or  friendship  ;  he  was  a  friend 
to  truth  and  freedom,  but.  his  very  impatience  of  the  least  wrong 
might  make  him  a  dangerous  auxiliary  to  those:  who  wished  to 
bring  about  the  greatest.  There  is  no  medium  in  such  cases,  ex- 
ceot  for  the  lookers-on;  and  if  he  did  not  take  a  decided  part 
against  the  Government,  he  must  go  all  lengths  with  it.      His  life 

16* 


S46  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


was  deficient  in  three  great  points,  the  beginning,  the  middle,  and 
the  end.  lie  had  set  out  a  Tory  and  went  over  to  Opposition 
from  some  juvenile  pique  against  Lord  North  :  he  then  coalesced 
with  Lord  Shclburne,  and  lastly  with  Lord  Grenville,  whose  well- 
known  principles  and  influence  could  hardly  leave  him  master  of 
his  own  opinions.  Several  circumstances  concur  to  indicate  that 
he  came  into  otlice  with  a  determination  to  remain  in  it,  such  as 
his  tone  of  reprimand  to  those  who  complained  of  some  abuses  of 
ministerial  influence  (which  lie  had  been  doing  nearly  all  his  life) 
ainl  the  quackery  of  such  professions  as  that  '■  it' he  were  an  artist 
and  could  paint,  there  were  no  colors  he  could  use  black  enough 
to  depict  the  baseness  of  Buonaparte's  conduct  to  Prussia" — as  if 
Prussia  had  been  the  most  innocent  creature  'breathing.  lie  how- 
ever (to  his  eternal  honor  be  it  spoken)  redeemed  while  in  office 
one  of  the  great  pledges  of  humanity,  by  abolishing  the  Slave- 
trade.  While  lie  held  the  reins,  h  ipes  ah  i  c  mtinued  to  be  en- 
tertained of  peace,  and  Buonaparte,  with  Talleyrand  to  assist  him, 
strained  every  nerve  to  urge  it  forward,  first  by  an  overture 
through  Lord  Yarmouth  and  then  in  the  conferences  with  Lord 
Lauderdale,  who  was  commissioned  to  go  over  to  Paris — but  at 
his  death  things  reverted  into  their  old  and  natural  course  (as  it 
seemed,  unh  ss  win  n  some  severe  constraint  was  put  upon  the  in- 
clinations of  the  King  and  his  Ministers)  and  a  new  Coalition  was 
in  !ii"  fii  Id  b  'f>re  the  en  i  of  the  year,  which  had  witnessed  the 
diss  'lution  of  the  hist.  This  time  it  was  Prussia  and  Russia  that 
leagued  against  France,  and  Kugland  as  usual  that  was  to 
pay  th  '  C  '.st. 

During  the  late  e  >nf  n  nci  -.  Bu  naj  arte  had  i  n  leavored  to 
bribe  the  1'higlish  Government  to  peace  bv  otfTmg  to  restore 
Hanover.  This  was  resented  as  a  deep  ind  '•-.  bv  Prussia, 
hi  piigh  she  professedly  held  llauovr  only  a<  a  pi  edge  ad  interim  ; 
and  by  her  doubh  -dealing  w  ith  b  >t  1 1  parties,  gave  each  a  right  t  i 
make  ber  the  scapegoat.  Wheti  the  <■  inferences  were  broken  r *i  1* 
ii  jwi  ver.  this  pr  >j  -i,  f-11  to  th  •  gr  iimd  ;  but  Prussia,  though  she 
hep*  Hani. ver.  ; 1 1  - ■  >  kept  hi  r  ill  h  i  n  <:.  This  did  not  previ  nt  i 
cordial  uni  •  1 1  and  a  thor  iiigh  go  i  understanding  -hortlv  after  be- 
tween Fngland  and  Prussi  i  :  '  tiiere  are  stronger  ties  between 
nrinces  than  r.n  re  interest  or  territ  >n' — mutual  hatred  of  the  un- 


TREATY   OF   PRESBURG.  347 


authorized  intruders  on  their  power.  Prussia  indeed  stood  in  an 
awkward  situation,  and  was  bound  to  do  something  to  recover  her 
character.  She  had  neither  the  pride  of  success  nor  the  dignity 
of  misfortune.  Her  hand  had  been  arrested,  as  she  had  prepared 
to  strike  an  insidious  blow  :  she  had  followed  the  war  hitherto 
only  as  a  sutler  to  pick  up  what  she  could  get;  and  from  the 
mercenary,  she  had  to  pass  suddenly  to  the  chivalrous  and  heroic 
part.  Perhaps  some  disjointed  recollections  of  manifestos  and 
marches  in  the  year  1792  haunted  her  dreams;  nor  was  that  old 
wound  well  healed.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  ill-blood  from  a 
sense  of  provocation  given,  but  without  any  blow  struck  ;  the  fer- 
ment became  extreme  throughout  the  country,  and  assumed  a 
very  melo-dramatic  appearance  indeed.  It  was  reported  from 
Paris  that  France  held  Prussia  cheap,  and  this  gave  birth  to  the 
most  tragic  scenes  of  loyalty  and  patriotism.  The  example  of 
Frederic  the  Great  was  held  up  to  the  imitation  of  the  King,  and 
he  was  reminded  of  the  battle  of  Rosbach.  The  Queen  and 
Prince  Louis  of  Prussia  did  all  they  could  to  fan  the  flame. 
Letters  were  circulated  tilled  with  invectives  against  the  French. 
It  was  said  that  the  Prussian  cavalry  had  sharpened  their  sabres 
on  the  threshold  of  the  French  Ambassador.  Some  young  men 
at  Berlin  had  indeed  thrown  stones  at  his  windows  ;  and  there 
was  no  insult  or  offensive  allusion  of  which  he  had  not  been  made 
the  object. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  war-party  at  Paris  were  not  idle  in 
fomenting  the  quarrel.  They  were  exceedingly  pleased  at  the 
rupture  of  the  negociations  with  England.  Murat,  whose  new 
honors  bad  turned  his  head,  was  the  leader  of  this  party,  and  let 
slip  no  opportunity  of  instigating  Buonaparte  to  war,  and  of  giving 
him  an  unfavorable  opinion  of  Talleyrand  and  all  those  who  in- 
clined to  peace.  This  Minister  (whose  sagacity  was  not  far  be- 
hind his  want  of  principle)  contended  that  the  Emperor's  power 
could  only  be  consolidated  by  peace,  and  that  "all  his  victories 
could  only  be  designated  by  an  algebraic  series,  of  which  the  first 
term  was  a  and  the  last  y  or  zero/'  The  Grand-Duke  of  Berg, 
on  the  contrary,  was  for  carrying  things  with  a  high  hand,  and 
thought  he  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  march  from  battle  to  battle, 
from  possession  to  possession,  like  the  leader  of  a  band  of  Condot- 


348  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

tieri,  consulting  only  his  arrogance  and  his  personal  prowess,  hia 
plume  of  feathers  and  his  sword  being  the  only  ideas  in  his  head. 
Having  been  just  created  Grand-Duke  of  Berg,  he  intimated  his 
design  of  taking  possession  of  the  three  abbeys  of  Etten,  Essen, 
and  Werden,  in  the  county  of  March.  The  Prussians  resisted  ; 
high  words  passed,  and  a  few  musket-shots  were  exchanged. 
The  Princess  Caroline  also,  not  satisfied  with  her  husband's  good 
fortune  or  her  brother's  renown,  wished  with  the  petulance  be- 
longing to  her  sex  and  youth,  to  make  conquests  of  her  own,  and 
to  fire  the  ambition  of  all  those  who  had  to  endure  her  caprices. 
There  soon  appeared  on  the  scene  therefore  a  troop  of  young  ad- 
miring courtiers,  eager  to  march  to  new  fields  of  glory,  and  to 
humble  still  more  the  insolent  pretensions  of  the  clownish  Prus- 
sians before  the  accomplished  cavaliers  of  the  saloons  of  Paris. 
Thus  the  desire  of  place  and  distinction,  the  moment  it  is  attained, 
uses  its  power  only  for  its  own  private  gratification,  and  plays  the 
game  of  vanity  or  interest  witli  equal  temerity  and  forgetfulncss. 
Then1  is  something  too  in  the  tone  of  French  assumption  and  de- 
fiance peculiarly  offensive  to  other  nations.  We  can  bear  pride 
in  a  superior,  for  then1  is  something  serious  and  dignified  in  it; 
but  self-conceit  (to  those  in  misfortune)  jars  through  every  fibre 
of  the  frame.  French  impertinence  has  perhaps  done  more  than 
the  horrors  of  the  Revolution  or  Buonaparte's  strides  to  power  to 
rivet  the  chains  of  Europe.  It  was  that  air  of  making  light  of 
their  enemies,  which  whetted  so  many  daggers  against  them, 
more  than  any  other  given  cause,  and  which  till  they  get  rid  of  it 
(which  they  will  do  when  they  get  rid  of  the  air  they  breathe) 
will  never  allow  them  to  be  respected  in  adversity  nor  safe  in  the 
lap  of  conquest.  Buonaparte  was  us  little  swayed  as  possible  bv 
these  petty  cabals  and  idle  boastings  or  by  any  thing  but  the  ne- 
cessity of  the  case  or  his  own  views  of  policy  ;  but  they  had  a 
tendency  to  inflame  the  irritation  between  the  two  countries  and 
to  precipitate  the  war.  The  ultimatum  of  the  cabinet  of  Berlin 
was  a  challenge  rather  than  an  expostulation  ;  and  Worthier  wrote 
from  Munich  to  express  his  apprehensions  that  the  Prussians  would 
commence  h  islilities,  without  any  previous  declaration,  as  had  been 
done  in   i  -e|.">. 

The  Emperor  quitted   Paris  on   the  21st  of  September,  1800  ; 


TREATY   OF   PRESBURG.  349 

to  which  he  had  returned  on  the  26th  of  the  preceding  January. 
The  Empress  accompanied  him  as  far  as  Mentz.  The  Imperial 
Guard  which  had  returned  to  Paris  after  the  battle  of  Austerlitz 
(and  where  Buonaparte  in  his  simplicity  had  promised  they  should 
stay  in  future)  once  more  began  its  march.  Orders  were  sent. 
to  Strasburg  for  embarking  on  the  Rhine  all  the  troops  from  that 
fortress  and  the  neighborhood,  and  to  Holland  to  direct  that  the 
Dutch  army  should  without  delay  enter  Minister  and  advance 
towards  the  Weser.  After  receiving  the  visits  of  several  German 
princes,  the  Emperor  continued  his  journey  through  Aschaffen- 
burg  to  Wurtzburg,  where  he  arrived  in  the  evening  of  the  same- 
day  on  which  he  left  Mentz.  lie  stopped  at  the  palace  of  the 
Grand-Duke,  and  here  he  waited  news  of  the  enemy.  The 
different  corps  of  the  French  army  were  assembled  at  their  respec- 
tive positions,  and  approached  the  frontiers  of  Saxony.  This 
was  the  first  error  of  the  Prussians,  who  having  the  start  in  point 
of  time  ought  to  have  attacked  the  scattered  corps  of  the  French 
before  they  had  time  to  effect  a  concentration  of  their  force  ;  or  at 
least  have  come  to  dispute  the  more  difficult  passages  of  the  Oder 
and  the  Elbe  with  them  ;  instead  of  which  (as  men  not  knowing 
what  to  do)  they  remained  motionless  at  their  positions  at  Erfurt 
and  Weimar,  suffering  the  invading  army  to  debouch  by  Saal- 
field,  where  Marshal  Lannes  defeated  the  corps  of  Prince  Louis 
of  Prussia,  who  was  killed  in  the  action.  The  Emperor  himself 
marched  by  the  valley  of  the  Maine,  having  with  him  the  corps 
of  Bernadotte  and  Nov,  and  being  flanked  on  his  right  by  Soult 
and  Davoust.  Having  passed  the  Saale  at  Saalburg,  he  learned 
the  day  after  that  the  enemy  had  abandoned  his  position  at  Erfurt 
and  was  coming  to  the  Saale  to  meet  him.  He  also  learned  from 
a  Saxon  convoy  that  part  of  the  Prussians  were  gone  to  Xaum- 
burg  and  from  the  letters  captured  at  the  post-office  at  Gera  that 
er  part  was  still  at  Weimar.  The  Emperor  then  formed  his 
resolution,  which  was  to  march  on  Jena  with  the  corps  of  Lannes, 
Nev,  and  Soult  ;  the  rest  of  the  army  he  ordered  to  continue  its 
march  on  Xaumburg  and  to  attack  the  encmv  if  they  were  found 
at  Weimar.  By  this  movement  the  Emperor  turned  the  Prussian 
armv,  having  arrived  by  a  road  which  they  should  have  taken  to 
meet  him,  while  they  were  advancing  to  force   the  passage  of  tho 


.150  LIFE   OF    NAPOLEON. 

Saale  by  a  road  into  which  they  should  have  driven  the  French, 
had  they  manoeuvred  with  more  skill.  On  the  13th  of  October,  a 
little  before  sunset,  the  Emperor  arrived  at  Jena,  with  Marshal 
Lannes  and  the  foot-guards.  He  was  near  Marshals  Soult  and 
Ney,  whom  he  ordered  to  join  him.  Bernadotte,  Davoust,  and 
the  Gra-.I-Duke  of  Berg  had  on  their  part  also  arrived  at  Naum 
bu'g. 


BATTLE  OF  JENA  AND  ENTRANCE  INTO  BERLIN.   351 


CHAPTER    XXXVIT 

BATTLE    OF    JENA   AND   ENTRANCE    INTO    BERLIN. 

The  Emperor  had  sent  forward  from  Gera  one  of  his  orderly 
officers,  M.  Eugene  Montesquieu,  as  the  hearer  of  a  letter  to  the 
king  of  Prussia,  which  he  gave  into  the  hands  of  the  first  Prus- 
sian troops  whom  he  encountered  about  a  league  above  Jena. 
On  entering  Jena,  the  French  had  certain  news  of  the  Prussian 
army.  It  had  left  Weimar  in  two  great  corps  ;  the  largest,  un- 
der the  immediate  command  of  the  King  and  of  the  Duke  of 
Brunswick,  had  taken  the  road  from  Weimar  to  Naumburg  ;  the 
other  under  the  orders  of  the  Prince  of  Hohenloe,  had  directed  its 
marcn  on  Jena.  In  fact,  the  advanced-guard  of  the  French  had 
no  sooner  reached  the  summit  of  the  hill  which  looks  back  upon 
Jena,  dian  they  discovered  the  enemy's  line  almost  in  front  of 
them.  The  Emperor  alighted  from  his  horse  and  went  to  recon- 
noitre The  sun  had  not  quite  set ;  and  he  advanced  till  some 
musket-shots  were  fired  at  him.  He  returned  to  hasten  the 
march  of  the  columns  to  their  positions,  which  he  recommended 
to  the  generals  not  to  take  up  till  it  was  dark.  He  slept  in  the 
bivouac  amidst  the  troops,  having  made  all  the  generals  sup  with 
him.  Before  he  lay  down  to  sleep,  he  descended  the  hill  towards 
Jena  on  foot  to  see  that  nothing  was  left  behind,  when  to  his"  sur- 
prise he  found  the  whole  of  Marshal  Lannes's  artillery  which  was 
to  begin  the  fight  next  day,  sticking  fast  in  a  ravine  which  in  the 
obscurity  of  the  night  had  been  mistaken  for  a  road.  He  was 
exceedingly  vexed  ;  but  instead  of  wasting  time  in  reproaches, 
he  set  to  work  himself  to  do  the  duty  of  an  artillery -officer.  He 
collected  the  men,  made  them  take  their  park-tools,  and  light  the 
lanterns,  one  of  which  he  held  himself  for  the  convenience  of 
those  whose  labors  he  directed.  In  this  manner  the  ravine  was 
sufficiently  widened,  and  the  extremities  of  the  axle-trees  cleared 


352  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

of  the  rocks.  The  Emperor  did  not  leave  the  spot  till  the  first 
waggon  had  passed  through,  winch  was  late  at  night.  He  did 
not  return  to  his  bivouac  till  he  had  issued  fresh  orders.  There 
was  a  hoar  frost  upon  the  ground,  accompanied  with  fog,  which 
prevented  the  dense  masses  of  the  French  troops,  crowded  toge- 
ther on  the  top  of  the  hill,  from  being  distinguished  by  the  en- 
emy, or  they  might  have  annoyed  them  with  their  tire. 

The  French  were  under  arms  by  day-break  ;  but  the  fog  was 
still  so  thick,  that  advancing  towards  the  enemy  on  an  open 
ground  in  front,  they  missed  their  way.  and  came  upon  a  Wuod 
where  the  Prussian  left  was  posted.  At  nine,  the  fog  cleared 
up,  the  sun  shone  out,  the  two  armies  tbund  themselves  close 
together,  and  the  cannonade  commenced  in  the  centre,  with 
the  greatest  sharpness  on  the  Prussian  side.  Ney,  who  was  on 
the  right  of  Marshal  Lannes.  attacked  the  extreme  left  of  the  Prus- 
sians, repeatedly  taking  and  being  driven  from  a  village  where 
it  was  lodged  :  and  would  have  lost  a  great  number  of  his  men, 
had  not  a  division  of  Soult's  coming  up  at  the  time  (though  fa- 
tigued after  a  long  march)  joined  in  the  action,  turned  the  Prus- 
sian left,  and  compelled  them  to  evacuate  the  village.  The  Em- 
peror blamed  Ney,  though  gently,  for  persisting  in  his  attack, 
instead  of  waiting  for  the  expected  reinforcement.  While  this 
movement  was  operating  on  their  left,  Marshal  Lannes  made  a 
vigorous  attack  on  the  Prussian  centre.  The  boldness  of  his  ad- 
vance made  them  shift  their  whole  position.  The  action  then 
recommenced,  and  a  now  incident  decided  the  fortune  of  the  day. 
The  Emperor  had  left  Marshal  Auirereau  at  Mentz  to  collect  the 
regiments  which  had  been  sent  back  from  Austerlitz  to  France, 
and  to  fid!  'A'  with  what  hn>\f  he  could.  lie  made  such  good 
sp  i  d  thai  he  arrive  !  at  Jena  while  the  battle  was  going  on.  lie 
did  not  pause  a  in  iinent,  but  advanced  through  a  lir-wo  id  in  such 
iner  as  to  appear  in  the  rear  of  the  Prussian  riirht,  at  the 
iu>taut  that  Lannes  was  attacking  it  in  front,  e  >mmencing  a  dis- 
charge of  muskotry  b  :  "■  ■  the  Prussians  had  time  to  n  com 
Buonaparte's  columns  seemed  to  meet  together  at  tiie  scene  of 
action  as  we  sometimes  see  the  clouds  assembling  from  the  differ- 
cut  points  of  heaven  befjre  a  thunder-storm.  This  attack  being 
as  determined  as  it  was  unexpected  made  the  enemy's  line  waver. 


BATTLE  OF  JENA  AND  ENTRANCE  INTO  BERLIN.   311 

The  Emperor  had  but  few  cavalry  with  him,  the  main  body  be- 
ing on  the  road  to  Naumburg  ;  but  as  soon  as  the  oscillation  was 
observed  in  the  Prussian  ranks,  they  were  sent  forward  and 
ordered  to  charge  with  desperation.  This  movement  succeeded 
in  preventing  the  Prussian  army  from  rallying  ;  and  the  head  of 
Murat's  cavalry  just  then  coming  up  completed  the  disorder,  and 
united  with  the  rest  in  pursuing  the  routed  enemy  on  the  road  to 
Weimar,  along  which  they  were  escaping. 

The  Emperor  from  the  spot  where  he  stood,  saw  the  flight  of 
the  Prussians,  and  the  French  cavalry  taking  them  by  thousands. 
Night  was  approaching ;  and  here,  as  at  Austerlitz,  he  rode 
round  the  field  of  battle.  He  often  alighted  from  his  horse  to 
give  a  little  brandy  to  the  wounded  ;  or  placed  his  hand  on  the 
breast  of  a  soldier  to  feel  if  his  heart  beat  or  there  was  any 
chance  of  life.  His  joy  on  such  occasions  was  only  checked  by 
the  recollection  of  those  he  could  not  succor.  If  he  found  a 
greater  number  of  dead  in  one  part  of  the  field  than  another,  he 
looked  at  the  buttons  to  ascertain  the  number  of  the  regiment ; 
and  afterwards  at  the  first  review  lie  would  question  the  men  as  to 
the  manner  in  which  they  had  been  attacked,  and  how  the  loss 
had  happened.  He  returned  to  pass  the  night  at  Jena,  where  he 
received  the  professors  of  the  University  and  rewarded  the  vicar 
of  that  place  for  the  attention  he  had  shown  to  the  sick  and 
wounded. 

On  the  same  day  (the  14th  of  October)  on  which  Napoleon 
overthrew  the  Prince  of  Hohenloe  in  front  of  Jena,  Davoust  and 
Bernadotte,  in  pursuance  of  their  instructions,  marched  from 
Naumburg  by  the  Weimar  road,  on  which  the  Prussian  army 
under  the  command  of  the  King  was  advancing.  Davoust  was 
in  a  great  measure  ignorant  of  the  position  of  the  enemy,  but  lie 
had  no  sooner  reached  the  summit  of  the  hill,  which  if  is  neces- 
sary to  ascend  after  passing  the  stone-bridge  over  the  Saale, 
about  a  league  from  Naumbur«;,  than  he  descried  the  Prussian 
armv  below.  He  immediately  dispatched  a  messenger  to  Ber- 
nadotte who  was  close  behind  him,  and  requested  he  would  sup- 
port him.  Bernadotte  insisted  on  taking  the  lead;  and  this  not 
being  acceded  to  by  the  other,  contrived  not  to  act  at  all,  pre- 
tending to  be  in  search   of  a   passage   somewhere  higher  up  the 

"30* 


3M  LIFE    OF   NAPOLEON. 

river.  Marshal  Davoust  attacked  with  an  inferiority  in  numbers 
of  one  to  four.  Scarcely  was  his  Hue  formed  when  he  was  as- 
sailed by  a  cannonade  and  discharge  of  musquetry,  which  were 
the  mure  furiously  maintained,  as  the  enemy  thought  they  were 
sure  of  destroying  him  :  had  it  not  been  for  his  great  courage  and 
firmness  under  lire,  his  troops  must  have  been  completely  dis- 
heartened. By  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  he  had  lost  one- 
third  of  his  force,  lie  could  only  retain  his  men  in  the  held  by 
showing  himself  everywhere.  In  vain  his  aide-de-camps  hurried 
to  and  fro  to  Bernadotte  to  urge  him  to  move  :  he  spent  the  whole 
day  in  seeking  a  passage  where  none  was  to  be  found,  and  would 
thus  have  allowed  Davoust  to  be  crushed,  ila  also  contrived  to 
keep  back  the  cavalry,  over  which  he  had  no  right  of  control. 
Davoust  was  indebted  to  his  great  valor  and  to  the  confidence 
placed  in  him  by  has  troops,  tor  the  glory  he  won  on  this  day, 
which  was  to  him  the  most  honorable  that  could  be.  Notwith- 
standing the  loss  which  he  sustained,  he  took  from  the  enemy 
seventy  pieces  of  cannon,  and  compelled  him  to  a  retreat.  Had 
he  been  supported  by  a  body  of  cavalry,  he  might  have  taken  a 
great  number  of  prisoners  ;  but  that  he  had  been  able  to  keep 
the  field  under  such  disadvantages,  obtained  him  the  admiration 
of  the  whole  army.  The  loss  of  the  Prussians  was  considerable. 
The  Duke  of  Brunswick  who  was  wounded,  hastily  retired  to 
Alt  ma,  where  he  soon  after  died.  The  King,  on  learning  what 
had  befallen  the  Duke,  made  a  movement  to  regain  the  Oder  • 
nor  could  Davoust  from  the  want  of  cavalrv,  obstruct  the  mo- 
narch's retreat.  Adjutant-General  Romceuf,  who  brought  the 
report  of  the  ati'air  to  the  Kmperor  at  Jena,  said  nothing  f  the 
absence  of  the  cavalry  nor  of  Bernadntte:s  refusal  to  participate 
in  the  action.  \\  hen  he  had  don<~,)  Buonaparte  asked  him  what 
those  troops  had  been  doing  during  the  conflict.  Receiving  no 
explanation,  he  bit  his  lips,  and  was  at  no  1  >ss  to  understand  that 
something  was  amiss.  \  et  after  this  he  made  this  man  a  sove- 
reign.  It  would  seem  that  as  the  \\  rid  goes,  magnanimity  eon 
tains  the  I    its  destrueti  m  in  its  own  b  i.som ! 

Prisoners  poured  into  Jena  the  whole  of  the  night;  and  among 
them  was  almost  the  whole  of  the  Saxon  infautrv  with  several 
generals.      The   Emperor  had   the  officers  assembled  in  a  hail  of 


BATTLE  OF  JENA  AND  ENTRANCE  INTO  BERLIN.    353 

the  University,  and  thus  addressed  them  hy  his  interpreter : 
"  Saxons  !  I  am  not  your  enemy,  nor  the  enemy  of  your  Elector. 
I  know  that  he  has  been  obliged  to  aid  the  designs  of  Prussia. 
You  have  fought  ;  and  ill  fortune  has  deprived  you  of  your 
liberty.  If  you  have  sincerely  espoused  the  interests  of  Prussia, 
you  must  share  her  fate  ;  but  if  you  can  assure  me  that  your 
sovereign  has  been  constrained  to  take  up  arms  against  me,  and 
that  he  will  seize  this  opportunity  of  resuming  his  natural  policy, 
1  will  overlook  the  past,  and  will  henceforth  live  on  friendly  terms 
with  him.'"'  M.  Pfuhl,  a  Saxon  officer,  undertook  to  go  to  Dres- 
den with  this  proposal,  and  to  bring  an  answer  in  two  days;  and 
on  receiving  an  assurance  that  it  would  be  favorable,  Buonaparte 
gave  the  Saxon  prisoners  their  liberty,  who  immediately  set  out 
home  by  way  of  Leipsic.  The  Emperor  then  departed  in  an 
open  carriage  for  Weimar  ;  and  at  the  top  of  the  mountain, 
called  the.  Snail,  met  a  Prussian  officer  bearing  a  letter  from  the 
King  with  a  proposal  for  an  armistice.  This  offer  was  not  com- 
plied with,  because  its  only  object  was  to  remove  the  war  from 
his  dominions  into  those  of  the  allies  of  the  French.  Either  from 
the  date  of  the  King's  letter,  or  by  some  other  means,  the  French 
general  learned  the  situation  of  the  Prussian  army,  and  directly 
ordered  Bernadotte  to  force  the  passage  of  the  Essen  defended  by 
the  Prince  of  Wurtemberg,  and  made  Lannes  march  upon  Er- 
furt where  the  Prinee  of  Orange  commanded,  which  shortly  after 
capitulated  with  a  garrison  of  eighteen  thousand  men.  This 
town  was  also  of  importance,  as  it  was  a  thoroughfare  from  the 
army  to  Mentz.  While  at  Weimar,  the  Emperor  had  an  inter- 
view with  the  Prussian  general,  Schmettau,  an  old  aide-de-camp 
of  Frederic  1!.  who  had  been  wounded  in  the  late  battle,  and 
died  in  coti-equence  soon  after. 

At  Xaumburg  Buonaparte  learned  from  Davoust  (with  whom 
he  (.expressed  his  high  satisfaction)  the  whole  extent  of  Bernadotte's 
misconduct  just  before.  lie  said,  "If  I  were  to  bring  him  to  a 
court-martial,  it  would  be  equivalent  to  ordering  him  to  be  shot. 
The  best  way  is  to  overlook  it.  I  do  not  think  him  so  devoid  of 
honor  as  not  to  feel  the  shamefulness  of  his  behavior,  respecting 
which  I  shall  not  fail  to  let  him  know  my  mind."'  Buonaparte 
could  hardly  have  been  a  physiognomist  to  trust  Bernadotte  twice  ; 


356  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

for  he  must  have  seen  him  with  stealthy  eyes  looking  over  his 
high-arched  nose,  watching  his  own  opportunities,  and  equally  in- 
diiierent  to  principle  or  sentiment !  On  the  road  between  Naum- 
burg  and  Halle,  the  Emperor  passed  over  the  field  of  Rosbach. 
He  knew  the  ground  so  well  that  on  approaching  Rosbach,  he 
said  to  one  of  his  aide-de-camps,  pointing  with  his  hand,  "  Gallop 
on  in  that  direction,  and  half  a  league  off  you  will  see  the  column 
which  the  Prussians  erected  in  commemoration  of  their  victory 
over  us."  When  the  whole  of  Europe  was  spread  out  in  this  man- 
ner before  Napoleon  as  in  a  map,  it  is  not  surprising  he  thought  he 
could  lay  his  hands  on  it  so  easily.  Tlie  column  was  where  he 
had  pointed  it  out,  but  no  higher  than  a  common-sized  door-post; 
and  the'  next  thing  was  to  order  up  some  of  Suchet's  sappers  to 
have  it  conveyed  on  carriages  to  Paris.  The  whole  army  was 
now  approaching  the  Elbe.  The  bridge  at  Dessau  had  been 
burnt  by  the  Prince  of  Wurtemberg,  whom  Bernadotte  was  pur- 
suing. The  Emperor  thought  it  possible  to  repair  it;  but  finding 
it  would  be  a  work  of  time,  preferred  crossing  at  Wittenberg,  by 
which  a  day  was  lost. 

Half-way  between  Dessau  and  Wittenberg,  Duroc  who  had 
been  sent  on  a  secret  mission  to  the  King  of  Prussia,  came  to 
meet  the  Emperor.  The  latter  remained  at  Wittenberg  two  days, 
while  the'  French  effected  the  passage  of  the  Elbe  ;  which  they 
did  before  the  Prussians.  Ney  was  charged  with  the  blockade 
of  Magdeburg.  Napoleon  with  the  rest  of  the  army  advanced 
towards  Berlin  by  the  Potsdam  road,  in  order  to  dispute  the  pas- 
sage of  the  Spree  with  the  enemy,  who  were  one  or  two  marches 
behind.  It  was  about  one  in  the  afternoon  when  the  army  left 
Wittenberg;  and  in  passing  through  the  suburbs,  a  storm  of  hail 
came  on.  The  Emperor  alighted  to  obtain  shelter,  and  entered 
a  house  belonging  to  the  keeper  of  the  forests.  He  thought  lie 
was  not  known;  and  regarded  merely  as  ordinary  civility  the 
respectful  manner  in  which  he  was  received  by  two  young  women 
in  the  apartment  where  he  was.  They  appeared  much  surprised 
and  embarrassed,  and  one  of  them  exclaimed  aside,  "Heavens! 
it  is  the  Emperor.1'  On  inquiry,  it  turned  out  that  she  was  the 
widow  of  an  officer  who  had  been  killed  in  Egypt,  and  that  siie 
recollected  Buonaparte  perfectly  well,  as  he  was  not  much  altered, 


BATTLE  OF  JENA  AND  ENTRANCE  INTO  BERLIN.    357 

as  well  as  General  Savary  and  General  Berthier,  who  were  with 
him.  She  had  been  left  with  one  son ;  and  in  answer  to  a  ques- 
tion put  to  her  on  the  subject,  she  ran  upstairs  and  brought  down 
her  marriage-contract.  The  Emperor  was  much  pleased,  and 
exclaimed,  "  Par  Dim!  this  is  a  curious  meeting."  He  then 
ordered  Berthier  to  take  down  the  names  both  of  the  mother  and 
the  son.  The  storm  being  now  over  and  the  Emperor  about  to 
depart,  he  said,  "  Well,  Madame,  as  a  memorial  of  this  day,  I 
grant  you  an  annual  pension  of  1200  francs,  with  the  reversion 
to  your  son."  He  then  mounted  his  horse  and  setoff;  and  in  the 
evening  signed  the  order  for  the  widow's  pension. 

Napoleon  passed  the  night  within  a  short  march  of  Potsdam. 
He  here  learned  that  the  Prussians  had  re-crossed  the  Elbe  and 
were  making  every  exertion  to  regain  the  Oder  towards  Stettin. 
He  ordered  Soult  and  Bernadotte  to  give  them  no  rest.  Ney 
remained  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Elbe  to  watch  Mairdeburij,  and 
to  see  that  the  enemy,  pressed  hard  by  Soult  and  Bernadotte,  did 
not  turn  short  that  way.  Spandau  surrendered  to  Marshal  Lannes 
at  the  first  summons;  so  that  his  corps,  being  left  disposable,  was 
sent  forward  to  the  other  side  of  the  Spree.  The  Emperor 
arrived  at  Potsdam  in  broad  day,  and  went  immediately  to  visit 
the  two  palaces  of  Sans-Souci.  He  admired  the  beauty  of  the 
larger  palace  and  made  some  remarks  on  the  site  chosen  for  it, 
which  is  so  bleak  and  ungenial  that  the  growth  of  every  thing  is 
stunted.  The  little  palace  of  Sans-Souci  greatly  interested  him. 
He  examined  the  apartment  of  Frederic  the  Great,  which  is  kept 
with  religious  care.  None  of  the  furniture  had  been  displaced; 
and  certainly  splendor  constituted  no  part  of  its  value.  The  wri- 
ting-table resembled  those  which  may  yet  be  seen  in  the  offices 
of  tin1  old  French  notaries  :  the  inkstand  and  pens  were  still  upon 
it.  Buonaparte  opened  several  of  the  books  which  Frederic  was 
fond  of  reading,  and  which  contained  marginal  notes  in  the  king's 
own  hand,  apparently  written  in  no  very  good  humor.  lie  or- 
dered the  d  ior  to  be  opened  by  which  Frederic  used  to  go  down 
to  the  terrace  in  the  garden  ;  and  also  that  which  he  passed 
through,  when  he  went  to  review  his  troops  on  the  great  sandy 
plain  near  the  palace.  Every  thing  about  this  monarch  appears  to 
have  been   dry  and  arid.      He  returned  to  Potsdam  for  the  night.. 


oftS  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

where  he  forbade  any  one  to  occupy  the  private  apartments  be- 
longing to  the  Queen.  At  Charlottenburg  they  found  in  a  drawer 
in  one  of  her  dressing-rooms  a  memorial  drawn  up  by  Dumouriez 
for  subduing  the  power  of  France.  Certainly,  there  is  no  contain- 
ing the  French  character  within  bounds,  except  by  mixing  it  up 
with  the  caput  mortuum  of  legitimacy  ! 

On  the  21st  of  October,  a  month  after  his  departure  from  Paris 
Buonaparte  entered  Berlin.  lie  was  on  horseback,  accompanied 
by  the  guard  and  the  whole  of  Davoust's  corps,  whom  he  chose 
to  be  the  first  to  enter  the  Prussian  capital.  The  weather  was 
fine.  Almost  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  city  seemed  to  be  out  of 
doors;  and  the  windows  were  filled  with  ladies,  who,  though  they 
evinced  considerable  curiosity  on  the  occasion,  yet  expressed  the 
profoundest  grief  in  their  countenances,  and  many  were  bathed 
in  tears.  Pride,  passion,  patriotism,  loyalty,  all  are  human,  and 
have  tears  for  their  dearest  loss  :  truth  and  freedom  alone  see 
theirs  with  dry  eves  !  The  Emperor  alighted  at  the  King's  palace, 
where  he  took  up  his  abode.  The  troops  were  stationed  on  the 
Custrin  and  Stettin  roads,  with  the  exception  of  the  guard  which 
was  quartered  in  Berlin.  Buonaparte  was  up  at  four  in  the 
morning,  sending  out  scouts  and  parties  of  skirmishers  in  every 
direction.  One  of  these  panics  captured  a  flag  of  truce,  from 
whom  it  was  discovered  that  he  had  loft  Prince  Ilohenloe  at 
New-Rupin  preparing  to  depart  for  Prontzlau.  on  which  the 
Emperor  directed  the  dragoons  and  the  corps  of  Lannes  to  pro- 
coed  thither  by  forced  inarches  up  the  Havel.  They  reached 
the  bridge  at  Prentzlau  a  few  hours  before  the  head  of  the  Prus- 
sian column  appeared  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  river.  Botli 
sides  being  very  much  fatitnied,  a  parley  ensued.  The  Prussian 
troop  which  was  most  in  advance  was  a  regiment  belonging  to 
the  King's  guard,  which  supposing  all  lust,  was  very  glad  to 
return  to  Berlin.  An  arrangement  was  proposed  and  concluded 
on  the  spot.  Prince  Ilohenloe  surrendered  with  all  the  troops 
thai  were  with  bin:,  transferring  to  General  Blucher  the  com- 
mand of  those  which  wen-  too  distant  to  be  included  in  the  capitu- 
lation. The  others  were  sent  buck  to  Berlin.  Prince  Charles 
of  Mecklenburg,  a  younger  hi':  .'her  of  the  Queen,  having  been 
laken  prisoner  at  Strelitz,  was  dismissed  on  his  parole.     Blucher 


BATTLE  OF  JENA  AND  ENTRANCE  INTO  BERLIN.   359 

had  rallied  the  wrecks  of  the  Prince  of  Ilohcnloe's  corps,  and 
added  them  to  what  remained  of  the  army  that  fought  against 
Davoust.  The  King  had  withdrawn  from  this  army,  as  soon  as 
the  armistice  had  been  refused.  He  took  Magdeburg  in  his  way 
to  Berlin,  and  thence  directed  his  course  to  the  Oder  and  after- 
wards  to  Graudentz,  where  he  ordered  the  bridge  of  boats  over 
the  Vistula  to  be  removed.  He  here  learnt  the  surrender  of  his 
army  at  Lubeck.  Blucher  had  manoeuvred  so  as  to  draw  Soult 
and  Bernadotte  from  Berlin  ;  and  afterwards  succeeded  in  giving 
them  the  slip  from  the  field  of  Wharen.  He  escaped  from  them 
so  completely  that  they  did  not  reach  till  evening  the  positions 
he  had  quitted  in  the  morning.  He  passed  through  Schwerin 
and  gained  Lubeck.  He  would  have  defended  the  bridge  of 
that  place,  but  was  overpowered.  Driven  to  the  last  extremity 
and  destitute  of  ammunition,  he  at  last  capitulated  and  surren- 
dered his  troops  prisoners  of  war. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  French  at  Berlin,  possession  was  immedi- 
ately taken  of  the  post-office.  The  examination  of  the  intercepted 
correspondence  was  so  skilfully  managed  that  at  first  no  suspicion 
was  entertained  of  the  circumstance.  In  this  way,  a  letter  for- 
warded to  the  care  of  the  postmaster  and  addressed  to  the  King, 
was  stopped.  This  letter  was  written  and  signed  by  the  Prince  of 
Hatzfield,  who  had  remained  at  Berlin.  It  contained  a  detailed 
account  of  every  thing  which  had  occurred  in  the  capital  since  the 
King's  departure,  with  a  minute  description  of  the  French  force, 
corps  by  corps.  As  the  letter  was  written  by  a  prince,  it  was 
laid  before  the  Emperor,  who  appointed  a  court-martial  to  be 
held  to  try  the  writer  on  a  charge  of  giving  secret  information  to 
the  Pruss:an  government.  On  the  order  for  the  court-martial 
being  issued,  the  Prince  was  arrested.  The  court-martial  met  ; 
but  as  the  Emperor  had  not  returned  the  original  letter,  the  only 
document  on  which  the  charge  was  founded,  an  application  was 
made  for  it  through  the  major-general  in  the  usual  way.  It  so 
happened  that  the  Emperor  had  gone  to  some  distance  from  Ber 
hn  to  review  one  of  Davoust's  divisions.  It  was  another  fortunate 
circumstance  that  on  his  return  he  stopped  to  pay  a  visit  to  the 
old  Prince  Ferdinand,  brother  to  Frederic  II.,  so  that  it  was  late 
before  he  cot  home.     These  lucky  incidents  afforded  the  Princcaa 


360  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

of  Hatzfield  time  to  see  Marshal  Duroc,  whom  she  had  known 
during  his  former  visits  to  Berlin.  The  Marshal  knew  nothing 
of  the  business ;  and  not  being  able  to  leave  the  palace,  sent 
General  Savary  to  learn  the  particulars.  He  hastened  back  to 
inform  Marshal  Duroc,  that  the  life  of  the  Prince  was  at  stake, 
and  that  it  was  necessary  to  procure  the  Princess  an  immediate 
audience  of  the  Emperor.  lie  had  just  then  returned,  and 
meeting  Duroc  at  the  top  of  the  stair-case  with  the  Princess  (who 
had  never  quitted  the  spot)  holding  by  Ids  arm,  he  said.  "  \\  hat, 
has  something  new  occurred,  Grand-Marshal  V' — "  Yes  Sire." 
said  Duroc,  and  followed  the  Emperor  into  his  cabinet.  lie  soon 
came  out  and  introduced  the  Princess.  She  knew  not  why  her 
husband  had  been  arrested  ;  and  in  the  simplicity  of  her  dispo- 
sition demanded  justice  of  the  Emperor  fir  the  wrongs  which  she 
supposed  was  done  him.  When  she  had  finished,  lie  handed  her 
the  letter  written  by  her  husband.  Having  run  it  over,  she  stood 
motionless,  and  looked  as  if  she  had  lost  all  sensation,  but  uttered 
not  a  word.  The  Emperor  said.  ••  Well  Madam,  is  this  a  cal- 
umny ?  I  leave  you  to  judge.'"'  The  Princess,  more  dead  than 
alive,  was  going  to  answer  with  her  tears,  when  Buonaparte  took 
the  letter  from  her  and  said,  ••  Were  it  not  for  this  letter,  there 
would  be  no  proof  against  your  husband." — "That  is  very  true,"' 
she  replied.  "  but  1  cannot  deny  that  it  is  his  writing." — '•  Well," 
said  the  Emperor,  '•  there  is  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  burn  it  ;" 
and  threw  the  letter  into  the  fire.  The  Princess  of  Hatzfield 
knew  not  what  to  do  or  say;  but  she  spoke  more  feelingly  by 
her  silence  than  the  most  eloquent  orator  could  have  done.  Siie 
retired  quite  happv,  and  soon  saw  her  husband  who  was  set  at 
libertv.  The  Emperor,  sav  those  who  knew  him  best,  was  on 
this  day  as  happy  as  the  Princess  of  Hatzfield.  Such  was  the 
man.  whose  character  venal  writers  labored  to  cover  with  the 
slime  and  poison  of  their  pen-;,  in  order  to  sink  a  cause  which  he 
upheld  bv  the  sword,  and  f  was  unassailable. 

Prince  Paul  of  Wurtemberg  had  joined  the  Prussians  without 
his  father's  consent  :  and  was  mad"  a  general  and  a  prisoner  al- 
most at  the  same  instant.  Buonaparte  took  no  oilier  revenue  of 
him  than  not  to  receive  him,  and  to  send  him  back  to  Stuttgard. 
Custrin    and    Stettin    surrendered,  as  if  they  had  fallen  down  be- 


BATTLE  OF  JENA  AND  ENTRANCE  INTO  BERLIN.   361 

fore  a  name  ;  and  at  the  same  lime  Magdeburg  with  a  garrison 
of  iwonty-lhree  thousand  men,  commanded  by  General  Kleist, 
surrendered  to  Ney,  whose  force  was  not  much  larger.  It  was 
only  in  Silesia  that  a  Prussian  corps  kept  the  field,  where  it  was 
opposed  by  Prince  Jerome,  to  whom  Buonaparte  having  been 
lately  reconciled  with  him  had  given  the  command  of  an  army- 
corps  of  Bavarians,  Wurtemburghers,  and  other  Confederate 
troops.  The  diplomatic  body  (locked  to  Berlin,  in  the  train  of 
victory  ;  but  did  little  to  bring  about  a  peace.  M.  Talleyrand 
in  particular  by  a  note  which  he  presented  (in  which  he  took  a 
lively  bird's-eye  view  of  the  whole  political  horizon)  offended  the 
King  of  Prussia  by  requiring  him  to  do  what  was  not  in  his 
power,  namely,  to  compel  England  and  Russia  to  make  peace. 
As  men  often  grow  desperate  in  desperate  circumstances,  the 
more  imperious  the  necessity  became  for  coming  to  terms  with 
Napoleon,  the  more  he  seemed  to  shrink  from  it  ;  and  when  Du- 
roc  found  him  at  Osteroele  on  the  other  side  of  the  Vistula,  he  re- 
jected the  idea  of  an  armistice  altogether,  alleging  that  "  it  was 
now  too  late,  and  that  he  had  thrown  himself  into  the  arms  of  the 
Emperor  of  Russia,  who  had  offered  him  his  support."  Buona- 
parte gave  up  all  further  attempts  at  negociation,  and  forthwith 
put  himself  into  a  condition  to  seek  peace  wherever  he  could  find 
the  Russians.  While  at  Berlin,  the  Emperor  received  a  deputa- 
tion from  the  French  Senate,  complimenting  him  on  his  astonish- 
ing success,  but  recommending  him  to  put  a  period  to  his  victories 
by  a  peace.  This  vexed  him  :  and  he  returned  for  answer  that 
before  they  recommended  him  to  make  peace,  they  might  at  least 
have  inquired  on  which  side  the  obstacles  to  it  lay,  or  have  sent 
the  means  along  with  the  flattering  hope  of  forcing  the  Prussians 
or  the  Russians,  with  whom  the  former  had  now  leagued,  to  con- 
clude it  with  him.  This  was  the  first  manifestation  of  that  spirit 
of  idle  cavilling  or  of  what  Buonaparte  afterwards  denounced  as 
the  spirit  of  ideology,  which  began  to  take  a  surfeit  of  success 
in  which  it.  did  not  play  a  principal  part,  and  which  was  looking 
at  abstract  principles  when  it  should  have  been  attending  to  cir- 
cumstances, and  at  circumstances  when  it  should  have  been 
guided  by  abstract  principles.  The  Emperor  had  sent  to  Itaiv 
for  the  Polish  general  Dombrouski  to  join  him  at  Potsdam  J; 
vol.  n.  17  31 


362  LIFE    OF   NAPOLEON. 

was  not  till  after  the  refusal  of  Prussia  to  sign  the  armistice,  that 
he  thought  seriously  of  creating  a  diversion  in  his  favor  in  Po- 
land. Fresh  troops  arrived  from  France,  with  which  Marshal 
Mortier  marched  against  the  Hanse-towns  ;  and  was  master  of 
the  sh»"Qs  of  the  Baltic  before  the  Emperor  was  ready  to  com- 
mence operations  in  Lithuania.  The  two  remaining  fortresses  of 
Ilameln  and  Nieuburg  also  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  French  by 
a  kind  of  giddiness  or  vertigo,  by  which  strong-places  at  this 
lime  took  it  into  their  heads  to  surrender  almost  at  discretion,  and 
without  striking  a  single  blow.  The  commanders  have  been  ac- 
cused of  treachery  and  collusion,  without  attending  to  the  effect 
which  a  general  panic  and  course  of  disaster  has  on  the  mind. 
A  great  authority  has  said,  "  Men's  judgments  are  a  parcel  of 
their  fortunes  ;"  and  the  example  of  cities  surrendering,  armies 
beaten,  and  kings  flying  from  their  capitals,  might  relax  the  si- 
news of  war  into  a  very  ague-fit,  even  in  a  veteran  soldier, 
without  the  imputation  of  bribery,  indifference,  or  premeditated 
treachery.  Cowardice  is  epidemic  as  well  as  courage  ;  and  the 
spark  of  patriotism  is  either  kindled  or  extinguished  by  common 
consent.  In  Ilameln  were  found  fifteen  stand  of  colors  embroid- 
ered by  the  fairest  hands  that  Prussia  could  boast,  adorned  with 
martial  emblems,  and  presented  to  their  lovers  in  the  hope  of  a 
different  fate.  Have  the  women  in  France  no  embroidering 
frames  ?     Neither  lovers  nor  a  country  ? 

Buonaparte  was  on  this  occasion  longer  absent  from  Paris  than 
on  any  other  since  his  return  from  Fgypt  (being  detained  by  the 
two  campaigns,  first  with  Prussia  in  180G  and  then  with  Russia 
:""i  ISO?) — and  it  may  not  he  an  improper  place  to  describe  his 
inner  of  life  when  with  the  army.  It  was  simple  and  without 
.now.  Every  individual,  of  whatever  rank,  had  permission  to 
approach  and  speak  to  him  of  his  affairs.  He  listened,  questioned, 
H-iid  gave  an  answer  on  the  spot :  if  it  was  a  refusal,  there  was  a 
.--usni)  assigned  for  it,  and  it  was  done  in  a  way  to  soften  the  pain 
•  >  a  dmial.      It  was  a  sp%:tacle   to  excite   the    highest   admiration 

■  see  the  common  soldier  quit  the  ranks,  when  his  regiment  was 
drawn  out  before  the  Emperor,  and  advancing  with  a  grave  mea- 
sured step,  and   presenting   arms,  come  close  up  to  him.     Napo- 

eon  never  failed  to  take  his  petition,  read   it  through,  and  grant 


BATTLE  OF  JENA  AND  ENTRANCE  INTO  BERLIN.   363 


its  just  demands.  This  noble  privilege  which  he  afforded  to  fidel- 
ity and  courage  gave  each  soldier  a  strong  sense  of  his  rights  and 
of  his  duties,  while  it  served  as  a  curb  to  check  the  humors  of  the 
superior  officers  who  might  be  tempted  to  abuse  their  trust.  Th** 
simplicity  of  the  maimers  and  character  of  the  Emperor  wae 
chiefly  remarkable  on  these  marching  days  when  the  cannon 
were  for  a  short  time  silent.  Constantly  on  horseback  in  the 
midst  of  his  generals  and  of  his  aide-de-camps,  of  the  officers  of  his 
household,  or  of  the  youthful  and  valiant  elite  of  the  officers  of 
artillery,  his  gaiety  and  goo  1-humor  had  an  influence  on  all  around 
him.  Often  he  gave  directions  to  halt,  and  would  seat  himself 
under  a  tree  by  the  road-side  with  the  Prince  of  Neufchatel. 
The  provisions  for  the  march  were  spread  out  before  him  ;  and 
every  one,  from  the  page  to  the  highest  officers,  found  by  one 
means  or  other  what  was  necessary  for  his  refreshment.  It  was 
a  sort  of  fete  for  the  whole  party.  Napoleon  by  banishing  from 
his  private  concerns  any  shadow  of  intrigue,  and  bv  judging  al- 
ways for  himscif,  had  inspired  all  those  belonging  to  him  with 
sentiments  of  affection,  of  union,  and  zeal  in  his  service  which 
rendered  their  intercourse  extremely  agreeable.  Such  was  the 
frugality  of  Napoleon  that  he  gave  the  preference  by  choice  to 
the  simplest  viands  and  to  those  which  were  least  highly  seasoned 
— as  for  example  :  eggs  au  miroir,  beans  dressed  as  a  salad. 
Either  of  these  two  dishes,  with  a  small  quantity  of  Parmesan 
cheese,  was  what  his  breakfast  generally  consisted  of.  At  dinner 
lie  ate  little,  seldom  tasting  made-dishes,  and  always  choosing  the 
w'nolesoinest.  lie  used  to  repeat  that  "  however  small  a  quantity 
of  food  we  took,  we  always  took  more  than  enough."  Bv  this 
means,  his  head  was  always  clear,  and  his  work  easy  to  him, 
even  alter  rising  from  table.  Gifted  by  nature  with  a  sound  and 
excellent  stomach,  his  nights  were  calm  as  those  of  an  infant; 
and  his  constitution  agreed  so  well  with  his  situation,  that  a  single 
hour  of  sleep  repaired  the  exhaustion  occasioned  bv  four-and- 
twentv  hours  of  fatigue.  In  the  midst  of  emergencies  the  most 
critical  and  urgent,  he  had  tin:  power  of  going  to  sleep  volun- 
tarily ;  and  his  mind  recovered  the  most  perfect  calm,  from  the 
instant  that  the  measures  which  the'  actual  circumstances  re- 
nuked  were  determined  on.     All  the  hours  oi'  the  dav  were  devoted 


5M  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


to  employment,  even  when  lie  was  with  the  army.  Did  he  cease 
for  a  moment  to  consult  his  maps,  to  meditate  the  plan  of  his 
battles,  and  to  study  the  immense  combinations  which  it  was  neces- 
sary to  arrange  in  order  to  put  in  motion  (with  mathematical  pre- 
cision) masses  of  four  or  five  hundred  thousand  men,  then  he  busied 
himself  with  the  interior  administration  of  the  Empire.  Several 
times  in  the  week  an  auditor  from  the  Council  of  State  arrived  at 
head  quarters,  charged  with  the  portfolios  of  the  different  .Minis- 
ters :  never  was  the  labor  deferred  till  the  morrow  ;  in  the  course 
of  the  same  day  the  whole  was  examined,  signed,  and  sent  oiF: 
every  thing  marched  abreast.  The  days  that  followed  a  battle 
were  devoted  to  receiving  the  reports  of  the  different  corps  of  the 
army,  connecting  together  the  detached  circumstances,  allotting 
to  every  one  the  share  of  glory  to  which  he  was  entitled,  and 
drawing  up  those  masterly  bulletins  which  are  a  model  of  military 
eloquence.  It  was  singular  enough  that  these  bulletins,  sent  to 
Paris  to  be  published,  were  read  and  admired  by  all  France,  be- 
fore they  reached  the  army,  who  knew  nothing  of  their  contents 
till  the  arrival  of  the  newspapers  from  the  capital.  They  have 
been  accused  of  exaggeration  :  but  events  sufficiently  proved  their 
truth.  Armies  do  not  fly  nor  cities  fall  down  before  the  columns 
of  a  gazette.  The  personalities  against  the  queen  of  Prussia  have 
been  complained  of  as  showing  a  want  of  gallantry  ;  but  the  pro- 
vocation was  extreme,  and  the  opportunity  not  to  be  missed  for 
paying  off  the  abuse  and  contumely  of  which  Buonaparte  was  him- 
self the  unceasing  butt  for  twentv  years.  Still  it  would  have 
been  better,  had  he  abstained  from  recriminating,  in  a  moment  of 
victory,  on  a  woman  and  a  queen — a  handsome  and  spirited  one 
too  ;  but  perhaps  the  air  of  the  palaces  of  Potsdam  and  Berlin  was 
not  very  favorable  to  sentiments  of  gallantry. 


BATTLES  OF  EYLAU,  ETC.,  AND  PEACE  OF  TILSIT.     365 


CHAPTER    XXX  V  II  I. 

BATTLES  OF  EYLAU  AND  FRIEDLAND,  AND  PEACE  OF  TILSIT. 

It  was  from  Berlin  that  Buonaparte  dated  the  famous  decrees 
of  the  21st  of  November,  180G,  interdicting  all  commerce  be- 
tween Great  Britain  and  the  rest  of  Europe,  which  was  the  com- 
mencement of  the  well-known  Continental  System,  which  he  re- 
sorted to  as  the  only  means  of  crushing  the  power  and  hostility 
of  England,  and  the  attempt  to  enforce  which  (almost  as  it  were 
against  the  nature  of  things)  in  the  end  proved  fatal  to  himself. 
Buonaparte  reasoned  in  this  manner  with  himself — that  it  was 
incumbent  on  him  to  destroy  the  power  and  influence  of  Great 
Britain — that  there  was  no  other  way  of  doing  it  but  by  excluding 
her  completely  from  the  ports  of  the  Continent — and  that  there- 
fore this  was  the  means  to  which  it  was  necessary  to  have  re- 
course in  order  to  arrive  at  the  indispensable  object.  But  noth- 
ing is  necessary  in  human  affairs  that  is  not  possible;  and  to 
attempt  a  remedy  for  that  which  is  placed  out  of  our  reach  by 
fortune,  is  only  to  make  bad  worse.  Nothing  could  alter  the 
moral  condition  of  England  but  the  striking  at  her  physical  re- 
sources ;  and  these  from  her  insular  situation  were  invulnerable 
in  the  ordinary  course  of  events.  There,  however.  England  was 
in  the  map;  and  there  let  her  remain  to  do  all  the  mischief  she 
could!  If  his  armies  could  not  march  across  the  sea.  neither 
could  her  fleets  come  upon  the  land.  This  was  enough  ;  any 
thing  beyond  was  will,  not  reason.  If  he  could  get  all  the  .-tales 
of  Europe  to  come  into  his  system,  and  only  one  hell  out,  that 
would  be  sufficient  to  defeat  it;  if  they  all  could  be  prevailed 
on  to  come  into  it  (which  would  be  difficult  considering  the  pri- 
vations and  losses  it  must  occasion),  would  they  all  keep  to  it? 
Even  if  this  were  the  case  with  the  governments,  no  advance 
would  be  made  towards   the  grand  object:    a  single   harbor,   a 

31  * 


3G8  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 


smuggler  s  cave,  a  creek,  a  crevice  would  serve  to  let  in  so 
subtle  a  thing  as  commerce,  just  as  the  smallest  leak  lets  the 
water  into  the  hold  of  a  vessel.  The  means  were  disproportioned 
to  the  end.  The  whole  power  and  resources  of  France  must  be 
strained  to  their  utmost  pitch,  and  called  forth  not  against  an  im- 
posing mass  and  once  for  all,  but  must  be  brought  to  bear  at 
every  moment,  and  in  every  point  of  the  compass,  against  the 
most  petty,  harassing,  and  evanescent  opposition,  Af.er  throw- 
ing the  net  of  his  policy  and  the  ramifications  of  his  vast  system 
of  restraint  and  exclusion  over  the  Lion  of  British  commerce,  a 
mouse,  a  Norway  rat  would  bite  the  curds  in  two.  It  was  only 
his  immense  influence,  his  prodigious  energy,  and  a  resolution 
steeled  against  remonstrance  or  disappointment,  that  could  have 
made  his  scheme  at  all  feasible  or  formidable  to  others  :  yet.  in 
spite  of  these,  it  failed.  Nothing  short  of  absolute  power  could 
have  carried  it  into  practical  effect  ;  and  with  respect  to  moral 
or  political  causes,  absolute  power  is  a  mere  name.  As  to  the 
complaints  urged  by  the  French  ruler  against  the  encroachments, 
the  insolence,  and  rapacity  of  England  as  a  maritime  power, 
nothing  could  be  more  just;  but  they  need  not  have  excited  any 
surprise,  except  in  contrast  with  the  high  character  which  we 
give  of  ourselves,  and  which  makes  others  a  little  sore  and  impa- 
tient when  they  find  out  the  truth.  On  the  other  hand,  with  re- 
spect to  the  inconsistencies  between  the  maritime  and  military 
cedes  of  warfare,  though  glaring  and  revolting  they  seem  in  a 
great  measure  to  arise  out  of  the  nature  of  the  service  itself  (the 
one  having  to  do  with  fixed  masses,  the  other  with  floating  frag- 
ments) though  not  altogether  so.  Thus  there  seems  no  reason 
whv  a  merchant-vessel  in  an  enemy's  harbor  should  be  confis- 
cated the  instant  war  is  declared,  while  a  convoy  of  merchan- 
dise bv  land  is  suffered  to  go  free  and  return  to  enrich  that  very 
enemv.  The  property  here  is  not  fixed  and  at  any  time  accessi- 
ble, but  moveable,  as  in  the  other  case.  Again,  if  the  property 
of  the  private  citizen  at  sea  is  mad-  lawful  spoil,  as  the  only 
means  which  the  stronger  party  has  of  gaining  an  advantage  over 
the  weaker,  yet  there  is  no  reason  why  the  unarmed  citizen 
should  be  made  prisoner  in  his  own  person,  which  can  only  be 
prejudicial  to  himself,  except  under  tiie  idea  of  his   being  held   to 


BATTLES  OF  EYLAU,  ETC.  AND  PEACE  OF  TILSIT   36", 


ransom,  according  to  the  obsolete  custom  of  barbarous  warfare. 
If  it  be  with  a  view  to  exchange  the  peaceful  prisoner  with  the 
soldier  taken  in  battle,  then  there  is  the  same  ground  for  detain- 
ing  travellers  in  a  country,  or  others  whom  we  have  in  our  power, 
to  increase  the  number  of  hostages.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the 
state  of  the  maritime  code  (which  either  for  good  or  bad  reasons 
approaches  nearer  the  usages  of  barbarous  times  than  the  mili- 
tary) might  admit  of  revision  and  amelioration  in  many  respects  ; 
and  if  Buonaparte  may  be  supposed  from  circumstances  or  pecu- 
liar irritation  to  have  taken  a  prejudiced  view  of  the  subject, 
we  can  hardly  set  ourselves  up  as  impartial  judges  of  the 
question. 

Hamburgh  was  the  first  place  that  felt  by  anticipation  the  blow 
that  was  about  to  be  aimed  at  British  commerce.  Marshal  Mor- 
tier,  towards  the  middle  of  November,  formally  re-occupied  Han- 
over; and  marching  upon  Hamburgh,  took  possession  of  that 
ancient  free-town,  so  long  the  emporium  of  the  commerce  of  the 
north  of  Europe.  The  strictest  search  was  made  for  British 
commodities  and  property,  which  were  declared  the  lawful  sub- 
ject of  confiscation — with  what  success  it  is  difficult  to  make  out 
between  the  outcries  of  the  English  merchants  at  the  meditated 
injury  (as  if  they  were  the  most  aggrieved  set  of  people  upon 
earth)  and  their  subsequent  boastings  of  having  outwitted  their 
adversaries.  Hcsse-Cassel  was  taken  from  the  Elector,  who  was 
known  to  be  decidedly  hostile  to  France  ;  and  with  various  pro- 
vinces of  Prussia  and  the  conquered  territories  of  the  Duke  of 
Br  mswiek  was  erected  into  the  kingdom  of  Westphalia,  and 
given  to  Jerome  Buonaparte.  Much  lias  been  said  of  Buona- 
parte's treatment  of  the  Duke  of  Brunswick,  who  died  about  this 
tini"  at  Altona  :  and  it  seems  to  have  been  agreed  by  certain 
writers  that  the  French  bullets  ought  to  have  spared  him  ;  first 
because  he  was  the  father-in-law  of  the  heir-apparent  of  the 
British  crown  ;  and  secondly,  as  being  the  author  of  the  memor- 
able Manifesto  against  the  French  nation  in  the  year  lT'J'i.  On 
the  contrary,  if  there  was  any  one  reproach,  any  one  indignity 
more  galling  than  another  that  could  be  heaped  upon  his  tomb  or 
on  his  death-bed.  that  one  ought  to  have  been  heaped  upon  it.  Oh 
no!  let  not  the  outrage  and  contumely  be  all  on  one  side — the  for- 


3G8  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 


giveness  and  forbearance  all  on  the  other.  What!  we  are  to  >e 
treated  with  the  cold,  defecated  malice  of  fiends,  and  we  are  to 
return  it  with  nothing  but  the  milk  of  human  kindness  and  the 
pitying  smiles  of  angels.  Those  who  have  cherished  but  ona 
feeling  all  their  lives,  that  of  hunting  down  the  liberties  and  hap- 
piness of  mankind,  cannot  come  with  their  latest  breath  to  beg 
a  little  charity  and  mercy.  To  give  no  quarter  to  human  nature 
is  to  expect  none  from  it.  But  Ins  son  never  forgave  his  father's 
death,  and  revenged  it  by  the  Black  Brunswickers  in  1815.  But 
his  father  was  not  the  only  one  by  many  millions  who  fell  victims 
in  that  ruthh  ss  struggle  which  the  Duke  of  Brunswick's  Mani- 
festo proclaimed  to  the  world,  and  to  the  spirit  that  animated  it. 
Buonaparte  is  blamed  for  having  alluded  to  this.  lie  would  have 
been  a  dastard  if  he  had  not.  So!  1806  was  to  be  paid  home, 
but  1792  forgotten.  There  is  no  equality  in  that.  Let  the  circle 
of  revenge  go  round  :  only  let  it  be;  understood  that  the  hatred  is 
reciprocal,  deadly,  and  implacable  on  both  sides! 

Buonaparte  had  a  fine  opportunity  at  this  time  of  rebutting 
the  odium  and  cavils  to  which  he  exposed  himself  by  his  treat- 
ment of  the  petty  princes  of  German  ,  and  of  establishing  his 
popularity,  had  he  made  common  cause  with  Poland.  That 
name  "  pleaded  trumpet-tongued  :'  against  the  iniquity  of  the 
old  governments  of  Europe,  and  laughed  to  scorn  all  their 
alleeted  appeals  to  moderation  and  justice.  A  light  went  before 
it.  a  (lame  followed  after  it  ;  from  which  Buonaparte  shrunk,  as 
the  one  pointed  out  and  the  other  embraced  consequences  of 
which  he  could  hardly  control  the  issues.  lie  hesitated  to  lay 
his  hands  on  that  engine  of  power  which  was  contained  in  the 
degradation  and  oppression  of  Poland,  and  to  give  it  full  scope, 
because  though  it  was  a  means  to  crush  bis  antagonists,  it  mighl 
in  the  end  recoil  upon  himself.  Honesty  would  probably  here,  as 
in  so  many  cases,  have  been  the  best  policy  :  and  the  broad  prin- 
ciples of  liberty  and  justice  the  safest  ground  for  him  to  tread 
upon.  But  Buonaparte  was  fonder  of  organizing  than  of  enian- 
cinatiii'i  :  and  even  if  lie  bad  restored  to  Poland  the  inheritance 
of  freedom,  would  have  liked  to  retain  the  management  of  it  in 
his  own  hands.  I  lis  lukewarmness  or  circumspection  cost  him 
dear,    bill  it  was    not    his    mo.-t    prominent    characteristic  to  truat 


BATTLE'S  OF  E  x'^AU,  ETC.  AND  PEACE  OF  TILSIT.     369 

with  implicit  faith  to  those  moral  tendencies  which  act  by  their 
own  spontaneous  and  expansive  force  ;  or  in  other  words,  the 
greatness  of  Ins  capacity  consisted  rather  in  combining  num- 
berless positive  means  to  the  same  end  than  in  wielding  the 
simplest  elements  to  the  production  of  the  most  widely-extended 
results.  Besides,  he  was  implicated  with  Austria  on  one  side, 
and  averse  to  provoke  the  lasting  enmity  of  Russia  on  the 
other;  and  all  he  did  was  to  erect  Prussian  Poland  into  a  sort  of 
independence  under  the  title  of  the  Duchy  of  Warsaw  with  the 
newly-created  King  of  Saxony  at  its  head,  and  to  talk  from  time 
to  time  of  the  liberation  of  the  Poles. 

"  The  partition  of  this  fine  kingdom  by  its  powerful  neigh- 
bors" (says  a  great  and  admired  writer,  whose  testimony  in  be- 
half  of  liberty  is  the  more  to  be  valued  as  it  is  rare)  "  was 
the  first  open  and  audacious  transgression  of  the  law  of  nations 
which  disgraced  the  annals  of  civilized  Europe.  It  was  executed 
by  a  combination  of  three  of  the  most  powerful  states  of  Eu- 
rope against  one  too  unhappy  in  the  nature  of  its  constitution, 
and  too  much  divided  by  factions,  to  offer  any  eifcctual  resis- 
tance. The  kingdom  subjected  to  this  aggression  had  appealed 
in  vain  to  the  code  of  nations  for  protection  against  an  out- 
rage, to  which,  after  a  desultory  and  uncombiv,ed  and  there- 
lore  a  vain  defence,  she  saw  herself  under  a  necessity  of  sub- 
mitting.  The  Poles  retained  too  a  secret  sense  of  their  fruit- 
less attempt  to  recover  freedom  in  1791,  and  an  animated  recol- 
lection of  the  violence  by  which  it  had  been  suppressed  by  the 
Russian  arms.  They  waited  with  hope  and  exultation  the  ap- 
proach of  the  French  armies;  and  candor  must  allow,  that  un- 
lawfully subjected  as  they  had  been  to  a  foreign  yoke,  they  had  a 
right  to  avail  themselves  of  the  assistance  not  only  of  Napoleon, 
but  of  Mahomet  or  of  Satan  himself,  had  he  proposed  to  aid  them 
in  regaining  the  independence  of  which  they  had  been  oppress- 
ivelv  and  unjustly  deprived."  This,  if  not  elegant,  is  full  and 
plain,  and  goes  to  prove  that  if  the  Poles  had  a  right  to  call  in 
Buonaparte  for  the  recovery  or  maintenance  u?  their  indeper 
deuce,  the  French  must  at  all  times  have  had  a  still  greater  right 
to  do  so. 

Buonaparte  had  obtained  by  a  decree  of  the  Senate  in  the  month 
"  17* 


370  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

of  October  1800,  a  new  levy  of  eighty  thousand  men  ;  and  wad 
in  a  condition  to  push  the  war  with  vigor,  and  to  a  decisive  ter- 
mination. The  French,  having  made  themselves  masters  of  the 
Prussian  provinces  to  the  east  of  the  Oder,  had  laid  siege  to  the 
fortresses  of  Glogau,  Breslau,  and  Graudentz,  and  were  advan- 
cing to  occupy  Poland.  The  Russian  General,  Benigsen,  had  on 
nis  side  come  as  far  as  Warsaw  in  the  hope  of  aiding  the  Prus- 
sians ;  hut  finding  that  they  had  scarcely  the  remnant  of  an  army 
to  bring  into  the  field,  he  had  recrossed  the  Vistula,  leaving  the 
capital  of  Poland  to  be  entered  on  the  28th  of  November  by 
Murat  at  the  head  of  the  French  vanguard.  About  the  same 
time,  Napoleon  leaving  Berlin  had  fixed  his  head-quarters  at 
Posen,  a  centrical  town  in  Poland,  which  country  was  beginning 
to  manifest  considerable  agitation.  The  Poles  in  many  instances 
resumed  their  ancient  national  dress  and  manners,  and  sent  dep- 
uties to  urge  the  decision  of  Buonaparte  in  their  favor.  The 
language  in  which  they  entreated  his  interposition,  resembled  that 
of  Oriental  idolatry.  '•  The  Polish  nation,"  said  Count  Radyi- 
minski,  the  Palatine  of  Gnesna,  "  presents  itself  before  your  Ma- 
jesty, groaning  still  under  the  German  yoke,  and  hails  with  the 
purest  joy  the  regenerator  of  their  beloved  country,  the  legislator 
of  the  universe.  Full  of  submission  to  your  will,  they  oiler  you 
their  homage,  and  repose  on  you  with  confidence  all  their  hopes, 
as  upon  him  who  has  the  power  of  raising  empires  and  of  destroy- 
ing them  and  of  humbling  the  proud."  The  address  of  the  Pre- 
sident of  the  Council-Chamber  of  the  Regency  of  Poland  was 
equally  sanguine  and  high-flown.  "  Already,"  he  said.  "  we  see 
our  dear  country  saved  ;  for  in  your  person  we  revere  the  most 
just  and  most,  profound  Solon.  We  commit  our  fate  and  our 
hopes  into  your  hands  ;  and  we  implore  the  mighty  protection  of 
the  most  auioist  Ciesar."  Napoleon  received  these  hyperbolical 
compliments,  which  Freedom  poured  forth  in  its  anguish  and  in 
its  abject  state,  with  complacency  ;  but  they  drew  from  him  no 
direct  or  explicit  declaration  of  his  final  intentions.  For  my  own 
pari,  his  equivocal  and  calculating  policy  with  regard  to  Poland 
gives  me  a  worse  opinion  of  him  than  all  he  did  to  Spain.  The 
■>ne  indicated  a  want  of  virtue  or  of  any  love  for  freedom  ;  the 
other  only  showed   a   contempt  for  vice  and  for  the  dotage  of  sl» 


BATTLES  OF  EYLAU,  ETC.  A2S  D  PEACE  OF  TILSIT.     37 1 

very  and  superstition.  The  last  might  be  pardonable  in  the  phi- 
losopher and  the  politician  ;  the  first  was  neither  consistent  with 
the  character  of  the  philanthropist  nor  the  sage. 

Meanwhile,  Warsaw  was  put  into  a  state  of  defence  ;  and  *-h<» 
auxiliary  troops  of  Saxony  and  the  new  confederates  of  the  Rhinr 
were  brought  up  by  regular  marches,  while  repeated  reinforce- 
ments from  France  repaired  the  losses  of  the  former  part  of  the 
campaign.  The  French  army  at  length  advanced  in  full  strength, 
and  crossed  successively  the  Vistula  and  the  Bug.  Benigsen, 
whose  object  it  was  not  to  give  battle  to  numbers  superior  to  his 
own,  retreated  behind  the  Wkra,  where  he  was  joined  by  the 
troops  of  Generals  Buxhowden  and  Kaminskoi,  the  latter  of  whom, 
a  contemporary  of  Suwarrow,  assumed  the  chief  command.  On 
the  25th  of  December,  1806,  the  army  of  Benigsen  took  up  a 
position  behind  Pultusk  ;  their  left,  commanded  by  Count  Oster- 
mann,  resting  upon  the  town  which  stands  on  the  river  Narew, 
the  bridge  of  which  was  well  defended.  The  right  under  Bar- 
clay de  Tolly,  was  strongly  posted  in  a  wood  ;  the  centre  was 
under  the  orders  of  General  Z:.chen.  A  plain  between  the  town 
of  Pultusk  and  the  wood  was  filled  with  cavalry.  On  the  20th, 
the  Russian  position  was  attacked  by  the  divisions  of  Lanncs  and 
Davoust,  together  with  all  the  French  guards.  After  skirmishing 
for  some  time,  the  French  assembling  in  great  force  on  their  left 
made  a  determined  effort  to  overwhelm  the  Prussians  by  turning 
their  right  wing.  Barclay  de  Tolly  was  obliged  to  fall  back  on 
his  reserve,  while  the  French  seized  upon  the  wood  and  took  sev- 
eral guns.  Benigsen,  however,  in  spite  of  Kaminskoi's  order  to 
retreat,  resolved  to  abide  the  brunt  of  the  battle  ;  for  which  pur- 
pose, desiring  Barclay  de  Tolly  to  continue  his  retreat,  he  suf- 
fered the  French  to  advance  in  pursuit,  till  the  cavalry,  who  had 
covered  the  manoeuvre,  suddenly  withdrawing,  a  battery  of  a 
hundred  and  twenty  guns,  extending  along  the  whole  Russian 
front,  played  on  the  advancing  columns  of  the  French.  The 
Russian  line  now  coming  forward  occupied  the  ground  from 
which  they  had  been  before  driven.  The  approach  of  night 
ended  the  combat,  which  was  both  obstinate  and  bloody.  Great 
numbers  were  killed  on  both  sides:  Marshal  Lannes  was  wounded 
'.n  the  action. 


372  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

The  battle  of  Pultu.sk  raised  the  reputation  of  Benigsen  and 
the  spirits  of  the  Russians,  who  thought  it  a  great  thing  to  have 
checked  the  advance  of  the  French.  Both  Benigsen,  however, 
and  Prince  Galitzin,  who  had  fought  the  same  day  at  Golyrnin, 
were  compelled  to  unite  their  forces  and  fall  back  on  Ostrolcnka, 
for  fear  of  being  surrounded.  Kaminskoi,  whose  conduct  had  for 
some  time  been  capricious  and  unaccountable,  now  showed  evi- 
dent signs  of  derangement,  and  was  superseded  by  Benigsen. 
This  general  made  a  demonstration  towards  Graudentz  and  Kon- 
igsberg,  where  the  King  of  Prussia  was  cooped  up  and  menaced 
with  the  gradual  approaches  of  Ncy  and  Bcrnadotte.  He  suc- 
ceeded so  far  by  tins  diversion  as  to  enable  the  Prussian  general 
L'Estocq  to  throw  reinforcements  and  provisions  into  the  former 
place.  On  the  25th  of  January,  1807,  Buonaparte  left  his  winter- 
quarters  at  Warsaw,  and  collected  his  army  at  Willenburg,  in 
the  rear  of  Benigsen's  corps,  who  was  then  at  Mohringen,  watched 
by  Bernadotte  on  the  other  side,  to  whom  Buonaparte  had  sent 
orders  to  bring  him  to  action  and  draw  him  on  to  the  Vistula,  thus 
intending  to  turn  the  Russians  here  as  he  had  done  the  Austrians 
at  Ulm  and  the  Prussians  at  Jena.  Napoleon  was  advancing 
close  upon  the  Russian  rear,  when  a  dispatch  intercepted  by  a 
troop  of  Cossacks  betrayed  his  design  ;  and  Benigsen,  alarmed  in 
time,  fell  back  precipitately  upon  Allenstein,  which  place  he 
evacuated  at  night  to  .avoid  a  battle,  tie  then  proceeded  by  Dep- 
peu  and  Landsberg  to  Preuss-Eylau,  where  he  arrived  after 
various  skirmishes  on  the  evening  of  the  7th  of  February,  and 
where  he  waited  on  the  outside  of  the  town  to  give  the  French 
army  battle  the  next  day.  Jt  was  intended  by  the  Russian  gene- 
ral  to  leave  a  guard  to  occupy  the  town;  but  this  having  been 
neglected,  it  was  resolved  to  scud  a  detachment  to  drive  the 
French  from  it.  who  wore  come  up  by  this  time,  and  in  whose 
possession  after  a  severe  and  doubtful  conflict  it.  remained  fir  the 
night.  Barclay  de  Tolly  was  wounded  while  leading  his  troops 
to  the  assault. 

The  position  of  the  two  armies  the  next  day  may  be  described 
as  follows : — The  Russian  troops  occupied  a  space  of  uneven 
ground,  about  two  miles  in  length  and  a  mile  in  depth,  with  the 
village  of  Serpallen  on  their  left  :   they  were  in  front  of  the  towy 


BATTLES  OF  EYLAU,  ETC.  AND  PEACE  OF  TiLSIT.  373 

of  Preuss-Eylau,  situated  in  a  hollow  and  in  possession  of  the 
French.  Napoleon  had  fixed  his  head-quarters-  here.  Davoust 
with  the  third  corps  had  proceeded  three  leagues  to  the  right  lo 
engage  a  Russian  column  which  was  on  the  Alio,  and  to  turn  the 
left  of  the  enemy's  line.  The  fourth  corps  bivouacked  in  advance 
to  the  right  and  left  of  the  town  : — the  Guard  in  the  second  line, 
the  seventh  corps  under  Augereau  and  the  reserves  of  heavy  cav- 
alry in  the  third  line.  The  space  between  the  two  armies  was 
open  and  fiat,  and  intersected  with  frozen  lakes,  on  which  the 
watch-lights  threw  their  pale  gleams  the  whole  of  the  preceding 
night.  On  the  following  day  (the  8th)  at  day-break,  the  Rus- 
sians commenced  the  attack  on  the  French  centre,  by  endeavor- 
ing  to  carry  Eylau ;  but  were  repulsed  with  a  dreadful  carnage 
on  both  sides.  The  Guard  maintained  its  position  and  kept  up  an 
unabated  lire  during  the  day.  About  noon,  a  heavy  storm  of 
snow  began  to  fall,  which  the  wind  drove  right  in  the  faces  of  the 
Russians,  and  which  added  to  the  obscurity  caused  by  the  smoke 
of  the  burning  village  of  Serpallen.  Buonaparte  was  on  the  top 
of  the  church  of  Eylau  ;  and  amidst  a  shower  of  grape  and  balls 
that  fell  on  every  side,  ordered  Augereau  to  advance  with  the 
seventh  corps,  which  it  did  by  taking  a  diverging  direction,  and 
was  close  upon  the  enemy  before  it  was  perceived,  owing  to  the 
thickness  of  the  atmosphere.  Benigsen  brought  up  his  reserves 
in  person  to  oppose  it,  when  a  sanguinary  conflict  ensued,  in 
which  Augercau's  troops  suffered  more  that  day  than  all  the  rest 
of  the  army.  At  this  time  the  third  corps,  commanded  by  Da- 
voust, came  up  (following  a  Russian  column  that  had  retreated 
fighting  all  the  way  from  the  Alle)  and  formed  nearly  at  right 
angles  with  Benigsen's  troops.  On  the  arrival  of  Davoust,  that 
general  commenced  his  retreat,  though  in  good  order,  and  aban- 
doned the  field  of  battle,  which  the  third  corps  occupied  about  five 
in  the  evening.  Ney  was  not  in  the  engagement,  but  about  two 
leagues  off.  at  the  village  of  Sloditten,  on  the  road  to  Konigsberg 
Both  lie  and  Bernadotte  came  up  in  the  course  of  the  night,  a'  d 
were  ready  to  have  taken  part  in  the  battle,  had  the  Russian  Gen- 
eral  boon  disposed  to  renew  it  the  next  dav.  A  council  of  war 
was  held  to  deliboate  on  the  point  without  dismounting  from  their 
norses  ;   the  mote   sanguine  among   the  leaders,  Tolstov  and  the 


374  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

Prussian  L'Estocq  who  had  come  up  with  reinforcements  towards 
the  close  of  the  jay,  were  for  attacking  the  French  again  on  trie 
morrow:  hut  Benigsen  did  not  think  himself  warranted  in  risking 
a  second  action  with  an  army  diminished  hy  twenty  thousand 
men  in  killed  or  wounded,  short  of  ammunition  and  totally  desti- 
tute of  provisions.  The  Russians  accordingly  that  very  night 
commenced  their  retreat  on  Konigsberg,  where  the  King  of  Prus-I 
sia  was.  Buonaparte  did  not  move  after  them  :  his  own  loss  was 
enough  to  give  him  pause,  which  he  estimates  at  eighteen  thou- 
sand men.  The  Russians  had  certainly  made  the  utmost  resist- 
ance that  unshrinking  hardihood  could  oppose  to  skill  and  valor 
united.  It  was  a  new  kind  of  warfare,  and  they  had  shown  that 
they  were  only  to  he  beaten,  by  being  hewn  in  pieces  like  logs 
of  wood.  The  victor  had  triumphed  over  the  civilized  part  of 
Europe  :  he  had  now  to  consider  what  obstacles  barbarism  had  in 
store  for  him.  An  army  that  had  the  power  of  inflicting  all  the 
mischiefs  of  war  on  others,  hut  was  utterly  insensible  to  them 
itself,  regarding  neither  suffering,  danger,  nor  death,  must  he 
very  formidable;  and  to  this  description  the  Russian  troops  ap- 
proached as  nearly  as  could  well  be  desired.  This  first  encoun- 
ter with  them  might  have  taught  greater  caution  :  but  the  reasons 
for  caution,  as  they  thwart  the  will,  are  often  only  motives  to 
temerity.  To  show  that  Buonaparte  was  aware  of  the  new  diffi- 
culties he  had  to  grapple  with,  in  his  next  battle  (that  of  Fried- 
land)  he  used  all  his  resources  of  art  and  stratagem  to  secure  the 
advantage  to  himself  before  he  commenced  it. 

The  battle  of  Prouss-Eylau  was  claimed  as  a  victory  by  both 
parties,  though  it  was  only  comparatively  that  it  was  not  a  defeat 
to  the  Itussians.  Buonaparte  remained  for  eight  days  on  the 
field  of  battle,  in  the  course  of  which  he  dispatched  a  messenger 
to  the  King  of  Prussia,  proposing  an  armistice  on  terms  more 
favorable  than  had  been  ollered  after  the  battle  of  Jena.  But 
favorable  terms  were  not  those  to  which  the  sovereigns  of  Europe 
were  disposed  to  accede  :  they  could  only  be  compelled  to  sign 
the  inosl  desperate  ones,  in  circumstances  the  most  desperate. 
The  King  therefore  remained  firm  to  his  ally,  the  Emperor  of 
tlussia  :  and  refusing  to  listen  to  any  oilers  of  a  separate  peace, 
■ietormined  once   more  to  try  his   fortune  to  the  utmost.     On  the 


BATTLES  OF  EYLAU,  ETC.  AND  PEACE  OF  TILSIT.  375 


19th  of  February,  Napoleon  evacuated  Preuss-Eylau,  and  retired 
upon  the  Vistula.  The  first  thing  he  did,  preparatory  to  a  new 
campaign,  was  to  order  the  siege  of  Dantzic,  from  whence  very 
dangerous  operations  might  take  place  in  his  rear,  should  he  again 
advance  into  Poland  without  reducing  it.  The  siege  was  there- 
fore formed  without  delay.  The  place  was  defended  by  General 
Kalkreuth  to  the  last  extremity.  After  many  unsuccessful  at- 
tempts to  relieve  it,  Dantzic  finally  surrendered  towards  the  end 
of  May,  1807,  trenches  having  been  opened  before  it  for  fifty-two 
days.  This  event  enabled  Buonaparte  to  unite  the  besieging 
troops,  twenty-five  thousand  strong,  to  his  main  army,  and  to  pre- 
pare, Lo  summer  advanced,  to  resume  offensive  operations.  He 
also  raised  the  siege  of  Colberg,  drew  the  greater  part  of  his  forces 
out  of  Silesia,  ordered  a  new  levy  in  Switzerland,  urged  the 
march  of  bodies  of  troops  from  Italy  ;  and  to  complete  his  means, 
demanded  a  new  conscription  for  the  year  1803,  which  was  in- 
stantly complied  with  by  the  Senate.  A  large  levy  of  Poles  was 
made  at  the  same  time  ;  and  they,  with  other  light  troops  of  the 
French,  were  employed  in  making  bold  excursions,  often  ex- 
changing blows  with  straggling  parlies  of  Cossacks.  The  Rus- 
sian army  had,  in  the  mean  time,  received  reinforcements,  though 
they  were  still  deficient  in  numerical  force,  their  whole  strength 
not  amounting  to  more  than  ninety  thousand  men  ;  while  Buona- 
parte, by  unparalleled  exertions,  had  assembled  upwards  of  two 
hundred  thousand  between  the  Vistula  and  Memel.  This  negli- 
gence on  the  part  of  the  Russian  government  to  recruit  its  force 
is  said  to  have  been  owing  to  the  poverty  of  its  finances  ;  and 
(what  is  still  more  remarkable)  to  the  refusal  of  the  British  Min- 
istry  to  negociate  a  loan  of  six  millions,  and  advance  one  million 
to  account,  thereby  giving  great  offence  to  the  Emperor  Alex- 
ander. 

The  Russians  were  the  assailants,  making  a  combined  move- 
ment on  Ney's  division,  which  was  stationed  near  Gustadt.  They 
pursued  him  as  far  as  Deppen  ;  but  upon  the  8th  of  June,  Na- 
poleon advanced  in  person  to  extricate  his  Marshal,  and  Benigsen 
was  obliged  to  retreat  in  his  turn.  As  to  the  share  which  the 
Cossacks  had  in  these  skirmishes  it  was  as  yet  very  trilling.  The 
Russian    army   fell   back   upon    Hedsberg,  where    concentrating 


376  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

their  force,  they  made  a  very  desperate  stand.  A  very  hard- 
fought  action  here  took  place,  the  battle  continuing  till  the  ap- 
proach of  midnight  ;  and  when  the  morning  dawned,  the  space 
of  ground  between  the  Russian  and  French  lines  was  not  merely 
strewed,  but  literally  choked  up  with  the  bodies  of  the  dead  and 
wounded.  The  Russians  retired  unmolested  after  the  battle  of 
Ilcilsberg  ;  and  crossing  the  river  Aller,  placed  the  barrier  be- 
tween them  and  the  army  of  Buonaparte,  which  though  it  had 
suffered  considerable  losses,  had  been  less  atfected  by  them  than 
the  Russian  army.  On  the  13th  Benigsen  with  his  Russians 
arrived  opposite  Friedland,  a  large  town  on  the  west  side  of  the 
Aller,  communicating  with  the  eastern  or  right  bank  of  the  river 
by  a  long  wooden  bridge.  It  was  the  object  of  Napoleon  to  in- 
duce the  Russian  general  to  pass  by  this  narrow  bridge  to  the 
left  bank,  and  then  to  draw  him  into  a  general  action,  in  a  posi- 
tion where  the  difficulty  of  defiling  through  the  town  and  over  the 
bridge  must  render  retreat  almost  impracticable.  For  this  pur- 
pose he  showed  such  a  proportion  only  of  his  forces  as  induced 
General  Benigsen  to  believe  that  the  French  troops  consisted 
chiefly  of  Oudinot's  division,  which  had  been  severely  handled  in 
the  battle  of  Ileilsberg,  and  which  he  now  hoped  altogether  to  de- 
stroy.  Under  this  deception  he  ordered  a  Russian  division  to 
pass  the  bridge,  defile  through  the  town,  and  march  to  the  as- 
sault. The  French  took  care  to  offer  no  such  resistance  as 
should  intimate  their  real  strength.  Benigsen  was  thus  led  to  re- 
inforce the  first  division  with  another — the  battle  thickened,  and 
the  Russian  general  at  leng-h  transported  all  his  army,  one  divi- 
sion excepted,  to  tli"  loft,  bank  of  the  Aller,  by  means  of  the 
wooden  bridge  and  three  pontoons,  and  drew  them  up  in  front  of 
the  town  of  Friedland,  to  overwhelm,  as  he  supposed,  the  crip- 
pled division  of  the  French,  to  which  alone  Ik;  conceived  him- 
self opposed. 

Hut  no  sooner  had  he  taken  this  irretrievable  step  than  the 
mask  was  dropped.  The  French  skirmishers  advanced  in  force, 
heavy  columns  of  infantry  began  to  show  themselves  from  a 
wood  that  had  hitherto  conceded  them  ;  batteries  of  cannon 
were  got  into  position  ;  and  all  circumstances  concurred,  with 
the  report  of  prisoners,  to  assure  Benigsen  that  he  with  his  en- 


BATTLES  OF  EYLAU,  ETC.  AND  PEACE  OF  TILSIT.   37" 


feebled  troops  was  in  presence  of  the  whole  French  army.  His 
nosition,  a  sort  of  plain,  surrounded  by  woods  and  rising  grounds, 
was  difficult  to  defend:  with  the  town  and  a  large  river  in  the 
rear,  it  was  dangerous  to  attempt  a  retreat,  and  to  advance  was 
out  of  the  question  from  the  inferiority  of  his  force.  Benig- 
sen  now  became  anxious  to  resume  his  communication  with  Weh- 
lau.  a  town  on  the  Pregel,  which  was  his  original  point  of  retreat, 
and  where  he  hoped  to  join  the  Prussians  under  General  L'Es- 
toeq.  To  secure  this  object,  he  found  himself  obliged  to  d; 
minish  his  forces  still  more  by  sending  six  thousand  men  to  de 
fend  the  bridge  at  Allerberg,  some  miles  lower  down  the  river, 
and  with  what  he  had  left,  resolved  as  well  as  he  could  to  main 
tain  his  position  till  night.  The  French  advanced  to  the  attack 
about  ten  in  the  forenoon.  The  broken  and  woody  country  which 
they  occupied,  enabled  them  to  continue  or  renew  their  efforts  at 
pleasure,  while  the  Russians,  in  their  confined  situation,  could 
not  make  the  slightest  movement  without  being  observed.  Yet 
they  fought  with  the  most  determined  bravery,  insomuch  that  to- 
wards noun  the  French  seemed  sickening  of  the  combat  and  about 
to  retire.  But  this  was  only  a  feint,  to  repose  such  of  their 
troops  as  had  been  most  warmly  engaged  and  to  bring  up  fresh 
succors.  The  cannonade  continued  till  about  half-past  four,  when 
Buonaparte  brought  up  his  full  force  in  person  for  the  purpose  of 
one  of  those  desperate  and  overwhelming  efforts  to  which  he  was 
wont  to  trust  the  decision  of  a  doubtful  day.  Columns  of  enor- 
mous power  and  extensive  depth  appeared  partly  visible  amona 
the  openings  of  the  wooded  country  ;  and  seen  from  the  town  of 
Friedland,  the  hapless  Russian  army  looked  as  if  surrounded  bv 
a  deep  semi-circle  of  glittering  steel.  The  attack  upon  the  whole 
line,  with  cavalry,  infantry,  and  artillery,  was  general  and  simul- 
taneous, the  French  moving  on  witli  shouts  of  assured  victory  : 
while  the  Russians,  weakened  by  the  loss  of  not  less  than  twelve 
thousand  killed  and  wounded,  were  obliged  to  attempt  that  most 
dispiriting  ami  hazardous  of  all  movements — a  retreat  through  en- 
cumbered defiles  in  front  of  a  victorious  army.  The  principal 
attack  was  directed  on  the  left  wing,  where  the  Russian  positior 
was  again  forced.  The  troops  which  composed  it  streamed  i rite 
he  town,  and  crowded  the  bridge  and  pont  >  ns  ;  the  enemy  thurj 


S78  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

dered  on  their  roar;  and  it  was  only  the  desperation  with  which 
the  soldiers  of  the  Russian  Imperial  Guard  turned  and  charged  at 
the  point  of  the  bayonet  the  corps  of  Ney,  which  led  the  French 
van  guard,  that  prevented  the  total  destruction  of  the  left  wing. 

At  the  same' time,  the  bridge  and  pontoons  were  set  on  lire  to 
prevent  the  French  who  had  made  their  way  into  the  town  from 
taking  possession  of  them.  The  smoke  rolling  over  the  combat- 
ants increased  the  horror  and  confusion  of  the  scene  ;  vet  a  con- 
siderable part  of  the  Russian  infantry  escaped  by  a  ford  close  to 
the  town,  which  was  discovered  at  the  moment  of  defeat.  The 
Russian  centre  and  right,  which  remained  on  the  west  bank  of  the 
Aller,  effected  a  retreat  by  a  circuitous  route,  leaving  the  town 
of  Friedland  on  their  right,  and  passing  the  Aller  by  a  ford  a 
good  way  lower  down  the  river.  The  two  divisions  of  the  Rus- 
sian army  which  bad  been  separated  were  thus  enabled  to  unite 
once  more  on  the  right  of  the  Aller,  and  pursue  their  disastrous 
flight  towards  Wehlau.  Either  the  destruction  of  the  bridge  or 
perhaps  motives  of  policy  prevented  Buonaparte  from  pursuing 
the  remains'  of  the  Russian  army. 

The  most  important  consequences  resulted  from  this  victory, 
not  less  decisive  in  the  event  than  admirable  in  its  conception. 
Konigsberg  was  evacuated  by  the  King  of  Prussia  and  Ids  forces, 
as  it  was  evidently  no  longer  tenable.  Benigson  retreated  to  Til- 
sit on  the  Russian  frontier.  But  what  was  the  object  most  desired 
by  Xapoloon,  it  had  the  effect  of  disposing  the  Fmperor  Alexander 
to  peace.  A  door  to  reconciliation  had  been  studiously  kept  open 
by  Xapoloon  between  the  (V.ar  and  himself,  towards  whom  he  ab- 
stained from  every  kind  of  indiscreet  porsonalifv,  throwing  out 
more  than  one  hint  that  a  peace  which  should  divide  the  world 
between  them,  was  at  anv  time  at  Alexander's  option.  The  time 
had  at  last  arrived  wh-n  the  hitter  seemed  inclined  to  listen  to 
t'Tins  of  accommodation  with  Franco.  ffe  had  boon  previously 
dissatisfied  with  his  allies,  who  were  either  fe  bio  or  unfortunate. 
I  in   si  m  iiiarchs  to  >.  be  was  not  withoul  -  mie  <•  iinpunction 

'{ )•:  the  extreme  suili ■  riu lts  of  his  subjects.  His  aniiv  had  been  a 
favorite  object  of  his  attention  :  and  ho  was  shocked  to  see  his 
fine  regiment  of  guards  (proud  as  he  had  been  of  them)  retain 
scarcely  a  vestige  of  tie  ir  firmer  numbers  or  appearance.      The 


BATTLES  OF  EYLAU,  ETC.  AND  PEACE  OF  TILSIT.    379 

influence  of  Napoleon's  name,  coupled  with  corresponding  deeds, 
might  also  have  had  its  effect  on  the  youthful  imagination  of 
the  Russian  Emperor,  who  was  not  himself  without  pretensions 
(o  the  heroic  character,  and  therefore  might  hi1  supposed  to  esteem 
it  in  others  ;  and  who  might  feci  his  pride  soothed  to  find  that  the 
predestined  victor  who  had  suhdued  so  many  princes  was  willing 
to  acknowledge  an  equality  with  him. 

The  Emperor  of  Russia's  wish  for  an  armistice  was  first  hinted 
at  hy  Benigsen  on  the  21st  of  June,  was  acceded  to  on  the  23d, 
and  was  soon  after  followed  not  only  by  peace  with  Russia  and 
Prussia  on  a  basis  which  bid  fair  to  preclude  the  possibility  of 
future  misunderstanding,  but  by  the  formation  of  a  personal  inti- 
macy and  apparent  friendship  between  Napoleon  and  the  only  sov- 
ereign in  Europe  who  had  the  power  necessary  to  treat  with  him 
upon  a  proper  footing.  The  armistice  was  no  sooner  agreed  upon 
than  preparations  were  made  for  an  interview  between  the  two 
sovereigns.  It  took  place  upon  a  raft  moored  in  the  middle  of  the 
river  Niemcn,  and  on  which  was  fixed  a  large  tent  or  pavilion 
fitted  up  for  the  occasion.  At  half-past  nine,  25th  of  June,  1807, 
the  two  Emperors,  in  the  midst  of  thousands  of  spectators,  em- 
harked  at  the  same  moment  from  the  opposite  banks  of  the  river. 
Buonaparte  was  attended  by  Murat,  Berthier,  Bessieres,  Duroc, 
and  Caulaincourt;  Alexander  by  his  brother  the  Archduke  Con- 
stantine,  Generals  Benigsen  and  Ouwarrow,  with  the  Count  de 
Lieven,  one  of  his  aides-de-camp.  Arriving  at  the  raft,  they  dis- 
embarked and  embraced  amidst  the  shouts  and  acclamations  of 
both  armies;  and  entering  the  pavilion  which  had  been  prepared, 
held  a  private  conference  of  two  hours.  Their  officers,  who 
remained  at  some  distance  during  the  interview,  were  then  recip- 
rocally introduced  ;  and  the  fullest  good  understanding  seemed 
to  he  established  between  the  sovereigns  who  had  at  their  dispo- 
sal so  large  a  portion  of  the  universe,  it  is  not  to  be  doubted 
that  on  this  momentous  occasion  Napoleon  exerted  ail  those  powers 
of  personal  attraction  for  which  hi;  was  so  remarkably  distin- 
guished, and  which  never  failed  to  throw  a  spell  (when  iie  chose 
it)  on  all  around  him.  If  the  courtly  writers  dwell  with  a  eel- 
tain  complacency  on  this  scene,  caught  bv  the  glare  and  parade 
of  royalty,    I   cannot  say  that  I   (with   feelings  totally  opposite) 


3S0  LIFE    OF   NAPOLEON. 

cither  shrink  from  or  grudge  it.  If  Buonaparte  here  rose  to  i 
height  imperial,  and  thought  it  no  robbery  to  be  equal  with  Kings 
and  Caesars,  neither  should  he  :  he  rose  to  that  height  from  the 
level  of  the  people,  and  thus  proved  that  there  was  no  natural  in* 
feriority  in  the  one  ease,  no  natural  superiority  in  the  other.  lie 
confounded  and  annulled  the  distinction  between  the  two  classes 
of  men.  which  one  of  them  had  wished  to  keep  sacred,  making 
unsparing  war  upon  and  arrogating  to  himself  with  a  high  hand 
their  proudest  claims  and  prerogatives.  It  was  a  satisfactory  ami 
noble  demonstration  that  greatness  was  not  the  inheritance  of  a 
privileged  few,  and  that  kings  and  concpierors  sprang  from  the 
earth,  instead  of  being  let  down  from  Heaven  to  it.  What  showed 
Buonaparte  in  the  most  imposing  light  was  the  borrowed  lustre 
that  he  reflected  on  Alexander,  who  merely  served  as  a  foil  to 
him  :  he  seemed  to  raise  him  up  as  an  antagonist  power  necessary 
fin  the  absence  of  every  other)  to  poise  his  own,  and  to  impart 
vitality  and  interest  to  his  remote  and  barren  dominions.  The 
frozen  regions  of  the  north  might  be  said  once  more  to  stir  and 
rouse  themselvi  s,  "as  life  were  in  them.'*'  Russia  hung  suspcndi  d 
over  and  ready  to  fall  upon  the  rest  of  Europe  ;  and  Buonaparte 
(looking  at  the  map  which  they  hold  trembling  between  them) 
might  think  it  politic  to  add  Spain  to  his  end  of  the  beam,  to  make 
the  balance  stead v  or  even.  The  artificial  mediums  of  knowledge, 
which  spread  out  the  universe  of  things  to  our  curiosity  or  cupid. 
itv,  while  they  extend  the  limits,  d  >  not  always  give  just  propor- 
tions to  our  ideas  :  the  human  Brobdignagian,  standing  over  the 
mimic  globe  reduced  to  a  nutshell,  retains  its  own  dimensions  and 
*  moo.  and  thinks  i:  easy  to  b'stride  the  wi  rid  like  a  C  1  <- 
iti  :■  -\  ever  d  raw  rash  and  unwarranta- 
-.  "oi.r  I:ii;i_r  and  country*''  are 
-;  well  the  one  as  the  other  :  and  hence  are 
equal  things,  'fids  is  false  arithmetic, 
_  :  .'  '  -  hi  irly  as  inseparable  fn  m  the 
:.  :'  Ian;  lage.  w  Inch  suits  well  en  ugh 
'  '-  and  ied  dun  rs.  and  falls  in  with 
the  gi'i'ssm  -  if  mankind,  who  >eem  incapable  for  the  most  part, 
and,  jn  what  c  >nc  tiis  them  u:o-t.  of  counting  hi  yond  units. 

The  town  of  T:!.>i;  was  i>.  >\v  declared  neutral.      Entertainments 


MIS. 

Villi   it 

ion  and 

b!e 

eonelusii 

i.s.      In 

two 

words  ;! 

at  S'  niiiM 

mad 

e    use    o] 

'to   i  1 1 1 :  i 

1      : 

ics.     11      1 

,-.    tii 

i  tin-  pill- 

llllpi   !  i'   ' 
:     ises    of 

BATTLES  OF  EYLAU,  ETC.  AND  PEACE  OF  TILSIT.  381 


of  every  kind  followed  each  other  in  close  succession  ;  and  the 
French  and  Russian  and  even  the  Prussian  officers  seemed  so 
delighted  with  each  other's  society,  that  it  was  difficult  to  conceive 
that  men  so  courteous  and  amiable  had  been  for  so  many  months 
drenching  trampled  snows  or  sandy  wastes  with  their  blood. 
The  two  Emperors  were  constantly  together  in  public  and  in  pri- 
vate ;  and  their  intimacy  approached  to  that  of  two  young  men  of 
rank,  who  are  companions  in  frolic  and  in  sport  as  well  as  accus- 
tomed to  be  associates  in  affairs  and  upon  occasions  of  graver 
import.  On  the  more  public  occasions,  there  were  guests  at  the 
imperial  festivities,  for  whom  they  contained  small  mirth.  On 
the  23th  of  June,  the  King  of  Prussia  arrived  at  Tilsit,  and  was 
presented  to  his  formidable  rival.  Buonaparte  did  not  admit  him 
to  the  same  footing  of  familiarity  with  which  he  treated  the  Em- 
peror Alexander  ;  and  intimated  that  it  would  only  be  to  oblige 
the  latter,  that  he  should  consent  to  relax  his  grasp  on  the  Prus- 
sian territories.  Those  in  the  King's  own  possession  were  reduced 
to  the  petty  territory  of  Memel.  with  the  fortresses  of  Colberg  and- 
Graudentz  :  and  it  was  soon  plain  that  Prussia  would  obtain  peace 
only  by  resigning  nearly  all  the  acquisitions  she  had  made  by 
fraud  or  violence  since  1773.  The  Queen,  who  had  in  a  great 
measure  provoked  the  war,  was  anxious  to  diminish  the  calami- 
ties of  the  peace.  As  the  quarrel  had  been  personal  to  herself, 
she  felt  the  mortification  of  her  present  situation  the  more  deeply, 
vet  submitted  with  the  best  grace  she  could  to  the  ascendancv  of 
the  conqueror.  "  Forgive  us,"  she  said,  "  this  fatal  war — the 
memory  of  the  Great  Frederic  deceived  us — we  thought  ourselves 
his  equals,  because  we  are  his  descendants — alas!  we  have  not 
proved  such  !"  Desirous  also  to  pay  his  court,  Xapoleon  on  one 
occasion  offered  her  a  rose  of  great  beauty.  The  Queen  who  at 
first  seemed  to  decline  the  courtesy,  at  length  accepted  it,  adding, 
■•  At  least,  with  Magdeburg.''  Buonaparte  answered,  "  Your 
Majesty  will  be  pleased  to  recollect  that  it  is  I  who  offer,  and  that 
\  air  Majesty  has  only  the  task  of  accepting."  This  replv,  it 
must  be  confessed,  was  by  no  means  well-turned.  The  disastrous 
const  quences  of  the  war  with  France,  and  the  little  influence  sh6 
was  able  to  exert  in  softening  their  severity  are  said  to  have  hast 
eiied  her  death. 


382  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

The  part  of  Poland  acquired  by  Prussia  in  the  partition  of  1772 
was  disunited  from  that  kingdom,  and  erected,  as  lias  been  al- 
ready stated,  into  a  separate  government  or  Grand-Duchy,  with 

the  King  of  Saxon v  at  its  head,  and  a  military  road  across  Silesia 
leading  to  it.  By  the  new  Constitution  of  the  Grand-Duchy  sla- 
very was  abolished,  and  the  equality  of  rights  established  among 
all  ranks  of  citizens.  The  Grand-Duke  held  the  executive 
power  :  and  a  Senate  of  eighteen  members  with  a  Lower  House 
of  Deputies,  amounting  to  a  hundred,  passed  into  laws  or  rejected 
at  pleasure  such  propositions  as  he  laid  before  them.  Put  the 
Poles  were  disappointed  in  the  hopes  either  of  the  restoration  of 
some  of  their  ancient  privileges  or  of  the  establishment  of  their 
independence  as  a  nation.  Dant/.ic  was  recognized  as  a  free  city 
under  the  protection  of  Prussia  and  Saxony.  The  Emperor  of 
Russia  and  the  King  of  Prussia  ratified  as  a  matter  of  course  the 
changes  which  Napoleon  had  wrought  in  Europe  and  acknowl- 
edged the  thrones  he  had  set  up,  while  out  of  deference  to  Alex- 
ander, he  consented  that  the  Dukes  of  Saxe-Coburg,  Oldonburgh, 
and  Mecklenburg-Swerin,  German  princes  allied  to  'he  Czar, 
should  retain  possession  of  their  territories,  France  keeping  the 
seaports  till  a  peace  with  England.  By  the  treaty  of  Tilsit  also, 
Russia  offered  her  mediation  between  France  and  England,  but  it 
was  understood  that  in  ease  of  a  refusal  by  the  latter.  Russia 
would  lend  herself  to  enforce  the  Continental  System,  and  shut 
her  ports  against  British  commerce.  It  is  also  believed  that  Buo- 
naparte was  at  this  time  apprised  of  the  war  shortly  after  waged 
against  Sweden,  bv  which  Alexander  deprived  that  kingdom  of 
her  frontier  province  oi'  Finland,  and  thereby  obtained  a  covering 
territory  of  the  utmost  imp  uMance  to  his  own  capital.  This  vio- 
lent seizure  never  appears  to  have  troubled  the  amicable  relations 
or  to  have  caused  the  interchan'_re  of  an  angrv  word  between  the 
cabinets  of  St.  James's  and  Si.  Petersburg.  The  boasted  flame 
of  justice  and  molality  which  rages  with  such  vehemence  in  the 
breast  of  trie  English  nation  seems  to  light  on  wet  or  dvv  straw. 
as  li'iritimacv  or  i Ih-irit i iiuie v  is  concerned.  The  treatv  of  Tilsit 
ended  all  appearance  of  opp  isiti  m  t  i  France  up  >n  the  Continent. 
The  Uritish  armament  which  had  been  sent  to  Pomerania  too  late 
in   the   campaign,  was    re-embarked  ;    and   the    King  of  Sweden. 


BATTLES  OF  EYLAU,  ETC.  AND  PEACE  OF  TILSIT.     383 

evacuating  Stralsund,  retired  to  the  dominions  which  he  was  not 
very  long  destined  to  call  his  own.  After  remaining  together  for 
a  fortnight,  during  which  they  daily  maintained  the  most  friendly 
intercourse  and  held  long  and  secret  conferences  together,  the 
two  Emperors  parted  with  demonstrations  of  the  highest  personal 
esteem,  and  each  heaping  on  the  other  all  the  honors  which  it  was 
in  his  power  to  bestow.  The  peace  between  France  and  Russia 
was  signed  on  the  7th — that  between  France  and  Prussia  on  the 
9th  of  July.  The  Congress  broke  up  on  the  same  day  ;  and 
Napoleon  on  his  return  to  France  passing  through  Saxony  (where 
he  received  a  visit  from  the  King)  arrived  on  the  29th  of  the  same 
month  at  the  palace  of  St.  Cloud,  where  he  was  greeted  with  the 
homage  of  the  Senate  and  of  the  other  official  and  constituted 
bodies,  couched  in  language  less  proper  to  be  addressed  to  a  man 
than  to  a  God.* 

*  It  was  during  Buonaparte's  absence  in  the  campaign  of  Poland  that 
the  son  of  Hortense  Queen  of  Holland  died  at  the  age  of  six  or  seven  years. 
Buonaparte  was  thus  disappointed  of  an  heir  in  that  quarter,  (on  whom  ho 
had  fixed  great  hopes)  and  this  is  supposed  to  have  first  given  rise  to  the 
settled  idea  of  a  divorce  from  Josephine,  which  took  p\w  two  years  after. 
It  was  whispered  among  the  courtiers  on  their  return  to  ^ntainebleau  in 
the  summer  of  ISO"  ;  and  it  is  imagined  to  have  had  its  sha-ro.  itl  some  of  the 
compliances  of  Napoleon  with  Alexander's  designs  (pariirulajrly  in  regard 
to  Turkey)  in  the  hope  of  obtaining  the  hand  of  one  of  tint  b««ian  Arch- 
duchesses ir  marriage 


384  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON 


CHAPTER    XXXIX. 


THE    AFFAIRS    OF    SPAIN. 

Buonaparte  in  his  behavior  with  regard  to  Spain,  it  most  be 
confessed,   "sounded    the  very  base-string'"'  of  a   Machiavellian 

policy.  1  know  of  nothing  that  can  be  pleaded  in  his  excuse, 
but  the  natural  contempt  that  he  must  have  felt  for  the  reigning 
family  who  were  ready  to  tear  one  another  to  pieces  for  the  pos- 
session of  the  sovereign  power  and  were  eager  to  resign  it  to  him 
sooner  than  let  one  another  have  it,  and  a  correspondent  want  of 
respect  for  a  nation  that  seemed  to  be  in  love  with  its  chains. 
From  the  exposure  which  the  domestic  quarrels  between  the 
father  and  son  made  of  their  imbecility  and  profligacy,  he  must 
have  seen  more  clearly  than  ever  what  sort  of  stud*  the  old  and 
legitimate  monarchies  of  Europe  were  composed  of,  with  some 
slight  inclination  lo  retort  the  feeling  of  cheapness  and  rancor 
with  which  they  beheld  him  ;  at  the  same  time  that  viewing  their 
subjects  through  the  diminished  perspective  which  a  copartnery 
with  thrones  lent  him,  as  they  looked  up  to  these  poor  creatures 
as  the  (rods  of  their  idolatry  and  their  only  refuge,  was  not  the 
way  to  increase  his  deference  for  or  his  sympathy  with  the  peo- 
ple lie  saw  a  crown  torn  from  the  brow  of  the  wearer  by  the 
immediate  heir  to  it  ;  and  (imitating  the  treachery  and  usurpation) 
tried  to  seize  and  keep  it  in  his  own  grasp  with  as  little  dignity 
as  success;  he  saw  a  people  worn  out  and  debased  under  a  long 
course  of  absolute  government,  and  wished  to  renovate  their  insti- 
tutions by  infusing  into  them  some  of  the  principles  of  modern  le- 
gislation and  improvement  ;  but  they  strove  witli  the  courage  of 
heroes  and  the  patience  of  martyrs  fin-  what  was  then  called  free- 
dom and  independence,  but  has  since  received  an  interpretation 
i  written  in  the  blood  of  its  mistaken  champions)  into  the  more  le- 
gitimate language  of  bigotry  and  despotism. 


AFFAIRS   OF   SPAIN.  335 

Farther,  Buonaparte's  attack  upon  Spain  was  not  quite  so  gra- 
tuitous or  unprovoked  as  it  has'  been  usually  considered.  She 
had  gnven  him  cause  to  distrust  the  sincerity  of  her  friendship 
(any  farther  than  it  was  compulsory)  and  to  guard  against  the  ill 
effects  of  her  half-smothered  and  ill-disguised  enmity,  by  taking 
the  reins  of  her  government  into  his  own  hands  when  the  tempta- 
tion offered.  The  secret  of  her  lurking  ill-will  transpired  in  a 
proclamation  by  the  Prince  of  Peace  at  the  time  of  the  campaign 
of  Jena.  Xo  notice  was  taken  of  it  at  the  time,  but  it  was  doubt- 
less remembered  afterwards.  This  curious  and  enigmatical  docu- 
ment was  as  follows  : 

"  Proclamation  of  the  Prince  of  the  Peace. 

"  Iti  circumstances  less  dangerous  than  those  in  which  we  are 
at  present  placed,  good  and  loyal  subjects  have  been  forward  to 
aid  their  sovereigns  by  voluntary  contributions  and  succors  pro- 
portioned to  the  wants  of  the  state.  It  is  then  in  the  actual  cir- 
cumstances that  it  becomes  necessary  to  show  ourselves  generous 
in  behalf  of  our  country.  The  kingdom  of  Andalusia,  favored 
by  nature  in  the  breeding  of  horses  proper  for  light  cavalry,  the 
province  of  Estremadura  which  rendered  in  the  same  way  services 
so  important  to  King  Philip  the  Fifth,  can  they  with  indifference 
behold  the  royal  cavalry  reduced  and  incomplete  for  want  of 
horses  ?  Xo  !  I  do  not  believe  it  :  I  trust,  on  the  contrary,  that 
after  the  example  of  the  illustrious  progenitors  of  the  present  gene- 
ration, who  aided  the  predecessor  of  the  reigning  sovereign  with 
levies  of  men  and  horses,  the  descendants  of  these  brave  patriots 
will  also  hasten  to  furnish  regiments  or  companies  of  men  dexter- 
ous in  the  management  of  the  horse,  to  be  employed  in  the  service 
and  defence  of  the  country,  as  long  as  the  impending  danger  shall 
last.  This  once  over,  they  will  return  full  of  glory  to  the  bosom 
of  their  families,  each  disputing  with  his  neighbor  the  honor  of 
the  victory  :  one  shall  attribute  to  the  valor  of  his  arm  the  safety 
of  a  family,  another  that  of  his  chief,  his  kinsman,  or  his  friend  ; 
all,  in  fine,  shall  boast  of  the  preservation  of  the  state.  Come, 
then,  dear  fellow  countrymen,  come  arid  range  yourselves  under 
the  banners  of  the  best  of  kings.  Come  :  I  offer  you  in  advance 
the  assurance  of  my  gratitude  and  welcome,  if  it   please  God  to 

vol,  it.  18  33 


3Sfl  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


grant  us  a  fortunate  and  durable  peace,  the  only  object  of  our 
vows.  Come  ;  you  will  not  yield  to  the  suggestions  either  of  fear 
or  perfidy;  your  hearts  will  be  closed  against  every  sp-cies  of 
foreign  seduction  ;  come,  and  if  we  are  forced  to  cross  our  arms 
with  those  of  our  enemies,  you  will  not  at  least  incur  the  danger 
of  being  marked  as  suspected  persons,  nor  will  you  strengthen  a 
false  imputation  on  your  honor  or  loyalty  by  refusing  to  answer 
the  appeal  which  I  make  to  you. 

"  But  if  my  voice  is  too  feeble  to  awaken  in  you  the  sentiments 
of  true  glory,  be  your  own  prompters,  become  the  fathers  of  the 
people,  in  whose  name  I  address  you  ;  let  what  you  owe  to  them 
make  you  remember  what  you  owe  to  yourselves,  to  your  honor, 
and  to  the  religion  ichich  you  profess. 

(Signed)  The  Prince  of  the  Peace 

"The  Royal  Palace  of  St.  Laurence.  Oct.  5,  1S0G.'; 

This  proclamation  was  followed  up  by  a  circular,  addressed  by 
the  Prince  Generalissimo  to  the  governors  of  provinces  and  to  the 
corregidors  of  all  the  cities  in  the  kingdom.      Its  tenor  ran  thus  : 

"  Sir, — The  King  commands  me  to  sav,  that  under  the  exist- 
ing circumstances  he  expects  of  you  an  etlbrt  of  zeal  and  activity 
in  his  service;  and  I  myself  in  his  name  recommend  to  you  tiie 
greatest  vigilance  in  the  drawing  of  the  1  its  which  must  soon  take 
place,  wishing  you  to  observe  that  we  shall  not  be  satisfied,  nei- 
ther his  Majesty  nor  myself,  with  those  ephemeral  exertions 
which  it  is  customary  to  make  in  ordinary  eases.  You  mav  no- 
lifv  to  the  curates,  in  the  name  of  the  King,  that  thev  will  he 
st  o  mded  by  tiie  hish  ps  in  urging  the  [i  pie  :  >  -  ulist  under  our 
standards,  and  exhorting  the  rich  to  make  the  necessary  sacrifices 
towards  defraying  the  expeiws  of  a  war  which  we  shall  perhaps 
be  compelled  to  support  tbr  the  good  of  all  ;  and  as  it  will  exact 
gp  at  i  ttorts,  the  magistrates  <    i^ht  to   b"  sens  t  it  is   mote 

particularly  their  duty  to  employ  all  iikelv  means  to  excite  the 
nation  '  cnthu  iasm  in  <-rder  to  enter  tiie  I ;>ts  that  are  about  to  be 
■  ..  His  M  ij<  sty  feels  c  :.:.  ;  nt  that  von  will  neglect  none 
of  those  that  may  call  forth  the  greatest  number  of  soldiers  in 
your  province  or  excite  the   gem  rous   ardor  of  the  nobility  ■. io; 


AFFAIRS   OF   SPAIN.  387 

their  privileges  as  well  as  those  of  the  crown  are  at  stake)  and 
that  you  will  do  all  that  lies  in  your  power  to  attain  both  these 
important  ends. 

(Signed)  "  The  Prince  of  the  Peace." 

By  a  singular  coincidence  enough,  this  circular  was  dated  from 
Madrid,  the  14th  of  October,  the  same  day  as  the  battle  of  Jena. 
Put  for  the  turn  which  that  battle  took,  and  which  put  a  sudden 
stop  to  all  this  raising  of  cavalry  and  marching  of  troops,  we 
should  have  had  Spain  unsheathing  the  sword  in  the  good  old 
cause,  England  paying  the  price,  and  a  world  of  blood  shed  to  at- 
tain a  durable  peace,  long  before  Buonaparte's  unprincipled  and 
unprovoked  aggression  on  Spain  had  roused  the  dormant  lovalty 
and  fiery  patriotism  of  that  old  cradle  of  romance  and  chivalry. 
Europe  reded  and  heaved,  with  war  like  an  earthquake  under 
Buonaparte's  feet,  and  he  was  accused  of  not  standing  still  :  no 
state  made  peace  with  him  as  long  as  it  could  help  it,  and  broke 
it  as  soon  as  it  could  :  those  that  were  sorely  against  their  will  at 
peace  and  disarmed  time  after  time,  kept  up  a  secret  understand- 
ing and  yearning  sympathy  will  those  that  were  at  open  and  irre- 
concileable  war.  Spain  was  one  of  those  that  had  longest  gnawed 
the  bridle,  and  that  if  he  had  failed  at  Jena  would  have  been 
at  his  heels  to  unfurl  the  banners  and  once  more  awaken  the  war- 
cry  of  religion  and  social  order  in  the  passes  of  the  Pyrenees  ; 
and  it  was  in  part  to  preclude  such  contingencies  and  put  an  end 
to  similar  proclamations  and  circulars  in  future,  that  he  stepped  in 
between  the  scandalous  dissensions  of  the  father  and  son  to  take 
the  power  of  peacr>  and  war  in  that  country  into  his  own  hands — 
iii  an  evil  hour  and  with  fatal  results,  it  must  be  owned,  but  not 
without  grounds  (both  in  the  letter  and  the  spirit  of  her  counsels) 
to  qualify  what  there  was  of  barefaced  violence  or  meanness  in 
the  attempt. 

Portugal,  which  kept  up  a  close  correspondence  with  the  Eng- 
lish  Government,  refused  to  acquiesce  in  the  Continental  block- 
ade, which  was  thus  defeated  of  its  object.  Angry  discussions 
arose,  and  the  French  ambassador  was  ordered  to  quit  Lisbon. 
The  Spanish  ambassador  did  so  the  same  day  ;  and  the  French 
and  Spanish  troops  marched    in  concert   against  Portugal.      War 


a&,  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


wa»  lotmally  declared :  the  Prince  Regent  did  not  wait  to  have 
his  cupiiiil  invaded  ;  he  embarked  for  the  Brazils,  and  left  nis 
kingdom  to  General  Junot,  who  commanded  tlie  French  army, 
and  who  without  striking  a  blow  in  the  quarrel  obtained  for  him- 
self the  Dukedom  of  Abrantes.     The  intelligence  of  the  (light  of 

tlirt  rr\\-!»l    f'ltnilv-   frMtn    \  .\<}\nn    w:i<  hsivvL-fin  nhr.nt  t  ho   Qtmffy  ni     I  ,nn_ 


3LU       11HJ      1  J  U  l\l.  UU111    Ul        .1171  U11H.V).  1    IH.     llUUIil.;!.  ll^C     \J  1       L11U     1 1 1  _^  1 1  t     VI 

the  royal  family  from  Lisbon  was  hawked  about  the  streets  of  Loir 
don  as  "glorious  news;7'  and  the  disappointment  of  Buonaparte'; 
design  of  getting  them  into  his  power  was  hailed  as  a  master 
stroke  of  state-policy.  So  low  wore  the  hopes  of  the  Allies  fallen 
(how  changed  since  !)  and  so  little  did  they  look  for  any  better 
result  than  the  indulgence  of  their  own  rage  and  obstinacy,  that 
it  is  not  impossible  if  George  111.  had  been  compelled  to  take  re- 
fuge in  Canada  in  prosecution  of  the  same  just  quarrel,  it  would 
have  been  trumpeted  forth  as  "  a  glorious  event/'  if  the  Courier- 
office  had  been  left  standing,  and  purchasers  eould  have  been 
found  for  a  third  edition  of  that  loyal  paper !  Chacun  a  son  tour. 
It  was  about  this  period  that  the  same  writers,  despairing  of  seeing 
any  good  likely  to  come  of  the  war,  began  to  maintain  boldly  and 
lustily  tiiat  it  was  a  great  good  in  itself;  that  war  was  the  natural 
state  of  mankind,  "  lively,  audible,  and  full  of  vent,"  while  peaee 
was  altogether  "  flat,  stale,  and  unprofitable:'"'  that  war  was  the 
sinews  of  commerce,  the  prop  of  the  altar  and  the  throne,  that  it 
filled  the  pockets  of  the  rich  and  carried  off  the  superlluous  popu- 
lation from  among  the  poor,  that  it  was  a  wise  and  salutary  dis- 
pensation of  Providence,  that  tin.'  taxes  were  merely  a  circulating 
medium,  that  the  debt  served  as  ballast  to  the  state  ;  and  that  the 
war-system,  bequeathed  as  a  legacy  to  the  country  by  the  late 
'■  heaven-born"  .Minister,  was  the  only  one  under  which  it  could 
maintain  its  existence,  and  independence,  or  dignitv.  All  this 
pompous  and  hollow  declamation  was  to  be  understood,  however, 
only  under  the  rose,  as  applving  to  war  when  carried  on  bv  our- 
selves or  our  Allies:  but  if  it  was  made  bv  Buonaparte  upon 
ns  or  others,  then  this  gentle,  harmless  creature  (the  darling  plav- 
thing  of  King,  Parliament,  ami  People — so  wanton,  so  dazzling, 
so  beautiful  with  its  crimson  spots  am!  warm  glossv  fur)  was  in- 
stantly transformed  into  a  hideous,  hateful  monster,  with  all  its  old 
terrors  restored  and  caricatured  if  possible,  and  we  were  called 
upon  to  make  one  more  combined  and  arduous  effort  in  order  (this 


AFFAIRS   OF   SPAIN.  38> 


was  the  usual  butt-end  of  a  speech  from  the  throne)  to  put  an  end 
to  the  calamities  of  war  bv  securing  the  blessings  of  a  solid  and 
durable  peace.  Such  was  the  state  of  fearful  self-delusion  and 
notable  inconsistency  to  which  the  public  mind  was  at  one  time 
reduced  by  insidious  counsels  and  by  venal  pens.  The  tone  was 
changed  with  circumstances  soon  after — the  objects  remained  and 
remain  the  same,  as  every  day  makes  more  apparent. 

Buonaparte  was  at  Futitaincbleau  in  October  1807,  when  a  M. 
Izquierdo,  counsellor  to  the  King  of  Spain  and  a  creature  of 
Don  Manuel  Godoi,  arrived  there  to  conclude  a  treaty  between 
the  Emperor  and  his  Catholic  Majesty  relating  to  the  partition 
of  the  kingdom  of  Portugal,  which  General  Junot  had  just  con- 
quered. The  first  article  gave  to  the  King  of  Etruria  in  ex- 
change for  Tuscany  (which  Napoleon  took  to  himself  and  added 
to  the  kingdom  of  Italy)  the  Portuguese  territory  lying  between 
the  Minho  and  the  Douro  ;  and  the  second  article  erected  the 
kingdom  of  Algarves,  including  the  province  of  the  Alentejo, 
into  a  principality  in  favor  of  Manuel  Godoi,  Prince  of  the  Peace. 
This  transferring  of  sovereignties  implies  the  transferring  of  sub- 
jects ;  and  surely,  either  one  or  the  other  must  be  wrong,  if  it 
can  possibly  be  avoided.  Nearly  at  the  same  epoch  and  date  as 
the  treaty  of  Fontainebleau  (October  27th)  Charles  IV.  publish- 
ed a  royal  edict  against  the  Prince  of  the  Asturias  (since  Fer- 
dinand VII.)  and  had  him  arrested  and  kept  close  prisoner  in  Ins 
apartments  in  the  Escurial,  as  being  at  the  head  of  a  conspiracy 
to  deprive  his  father  of  his  throne  and  life.  On  his  begging  par- 
don, however,  and  disclaiming  all  intention  of  violence  beyond 
that  of  removing  the  favorite  Godoi,  he  was  forgiven  and  restored 
to  liberty.  The  first  act  of  his  inglorious  career  was  to  betray 
his  late  advisers  and  accomplices.  Just  before  the  discovery  of 
the  plot  and  bv  way  of  insinuating  himself  into  favor,  he  had 
written  by  stealth  to  Napoleon  to  request  one  of  his  nieces  in 
marriage.  There  is  no  proof  either  for  or  against  the  ulterior 
designs  of  the  conspiracy,  farther  than  his  own  disclaimer  which 
is  absolutely  worthless;  but  as  he  actually  carried  his  usurpation 
into  effect  in  the  spring  following,  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  it 
was  meditated  in  the  first  instance.  Nor  is  there  any  difficulty 
Ixi  crediting  both   parts   of  his  father's  accusation   against  his   r^ 


J90  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 

bellious  son.  Unnatural  sentiments  are  the  familiar  growth  ot 
unnatural  situations.  His  education  had  been  neglected;  and 
he  had  had  no  adviser  but  the  canon  Excoiquitz,  armed  with  fanatic 
fury  and  plenary  indulgences.  His  understanding  seems  never 
to  have  reached  beyond  that  low  cunning,  which  answers  to  the 
instinct  of  self-preservation  in  animals.  He  was,  besides,  hated 
by  both  his  parents,  to  pleas:'  their  mutual  favorite  Godoi ;  for  it 
is  not  the  least  striking  part  of  this  characteristic  episode  of  roy- 
alty that  both  the  King  and  Queen  appeared  to  have  lavished  all 
their  tenderness  and  anxiety  on  a  person  who  was  neither  entitled 
to  admiration  nor  esteem,  to  the  exclusion  of  every  common  obli- 
gation and  even  the  forgetfulness  of  themselves,  thus  showing 
that  the  mind  in  all  cases  requires  an  object  to  fix  its  entire  affec- 
tion upon,  and  that  those  who  are  raised  to  the  most  exalted  situ- 
ations, and  whose  pride  and  caprice  are  their  ruling  passion,  na- 
turally choose  an  object  that  owes  all  to  themselves,  and  where  as 
the  preference  is  without  a  motive,  so  it  may  know  no  bounds  of 
reason,  decency,  or  common  sense.  Feeling  no  extraordinary 
virtues  or  talents  in  themselves  to  excite  the  homage  and  obedi- 
ence of  their  subjects,  they  bestow  their  goodwill  equally  at  ran- 
dom.  and  think  it  hard  if  thev  cannot  be  as  absurd  as  the  rest  of 
mankind  or  even  distinguish  themselves  in  the  unaccountablenesa 
of  their  attachments.  Princes  generally  choose  their  favorites 
among  the  meanest  or  the  m  ist  mischievous  of  the  species — those 
who  oppose  the  least  resistance  to  their  will  or  who  are  the  most 
dangerous  instruments  in  executing  if.  In  the  present  instance, 
however.  Godoi  seems  to  have  been  the  master  rather  than  the 
obsequious  tool,  and  to  have  takei  the  affairs  of  government  com- 
pletely off  the  indolent  and   incapable  shoulders  of  Charles  IV. 

The  Emperor  did  not  send  an\  answer  to  Ferdinand's  letter 
respecting  the  marriage,  but  set  nlT  for  Italy,  where  he  visited 
Venice,  of  which  he  had  become  the  sovereign  by  the  treaty  of 
Presburg  ;  carried  into  etlect  the  article  in  the  treaty  of  Fon- 
tainebleau  which  added  Tuscany  to  his  dominions;  and  in  case 
of  bis  death  without  issue,  declared  Kugene  Beauharnais  his  heir 
and  successor  to  the  crown  ot'  Italy.  In  the  mean  time,  the 
French  troop*  on  their  march  to  Portugal  occupied  the  fortresses 
of  .St.    Sebastian,    Pampeluna,    Barcelona,    and    Figueres   or    tr* 


AFFAIRS   OF   SPAIN.  3&* 

frontiers  of  Spain,  and  advanced  as  far  as  Vittoria.  Godoi  by 
his  connivance  opened  all  these  places  to  them,  regardless  of  the 
defenceless  state  of  the  country,  and  intent  only  on  screening 
himself  from  the  public  hatred  and  on  securing  possession  of  his 
principality  of  Algarves.  Murat  approached  Madrid  by  the  route 
of  Sommo-Sierra,  Buitrugo,  and  St.  Augustin  :  but  he  stopped  at 
the  latter  place.  The  greatest  alarm  and  agitation  prevailed  as 
to  the  result  of  all  these  measures,  and  the  nation  fixed  its  eyes 
with  anxiety  and  expectation  on  the  Prince  of  the  Asturias.  On 
the  13th  of  March,  1808,  an  order  came  from  the  Prince  of  Peace 
to  the  council  of  Castile  to  send  the  Walloon  guards,  the  light 
regiments  of  carbineers  and  the  whole  of  the  garrison  of  Madrid 
to  the  palace  of  Aranjuez,  where  the  royal  family  then  were. 
The  pretext  for  this  removal  was  to  prevent  any  quarrels  between 
the  garrison  and  the  French  troops  on  their  arrival ;  but  its  real 
object  seemed  to  be  to  deliver  the  capital  into  the  hands  of  the 
French.  The  Council  sent  a  remonstrance,  and  deliberated  all 
day  without  coming  to  a  conclusion.  In  the  night,  the  troops 
were  marched  oil";  while  a  large  part  of  the  population  of  Madrid 
accompanied  them.  On  the  way  they  made  no  secret  of  their 
intentions,  vowing  vengeance  on  the  obnoxious  favorite.  Their 
approach  to  Aranjuez  alarmed  the  poor  old  king,  who  agreed  to 
dismiss  Godoi  from  all  his  functions,  but  this  concession  was  not 
sufficient.  Ferdinand  who  had  hitherto  appeared  to  take  no 
notice  of  what  was  passing,  now  came  forward,  put  himself  at 
the  head  of  his  party,  and  Charles  was  compelled  to  abdicate  on 
the  19th  in  favor  of  his  son,  in  the  midst  of  bavonets  and  the 
threatening  cries  of  the  populace.  The  only  condition  that  he 
demanded  was  the  life  of  his  minister.  Godoi  was  discovered 
concealed  in  a  hay-loft  belonging  to  the  palace  of  Villa-Viciosa, 
was  snatched  from  the  mob  who  were  maltreating  him  by  Ferdi- 
nand, and  conveyed  under  an  escort  to  prison,  and  the  next  day 
all  his  goods  were  declared  to  be  confiscated,  and  an  order  issued 
for  his  trial.  The  Prince  then  gave  notice  that  he  should  pro- 
ceed forthwith  to  Madrid  to  be  proclaimed  King.  Fie  arrived 
here  on  the  24th  of  March  :  the  Grand-Duke  of  Berg  had  entered 
with  his  troops  the  preceding  day  ;  but  this  occasioned  no  distur- 
bance  for  the    present,    the  people   being  entirely  taken  up   and 


392  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON 

.  intoxicated  with  their  reoent  triumph.  Ferdinand  appointed  the 
Duke  de  l'Infantado  colonel  of  the  Guards,  and  recalled  his  for- 
mer partisans  who  had  been  exiled  ;  at  the  same  time  that  the 
old  King,  being  freed  from  immediate  danger,  retracted  his  abdi- 
cation as  forced  from  him,  and  applied  to  Napoleon  for  his  inter- 
position to  dispose  of  his  crown  as  he  pleased,  and  to  extend  his 
protection  to  the  Prince  of  Peace.  The  Queen  wrote  to  the 
Grand-Duke  of  Berg  to  the  same  effect,  who  promised  his  good 
offices  and  who  had  ordered  detachments  on  Segovia  and  ToledoN 
thus  drawing  a  circle  of  troops  round  the  capital.  Buonaparte, 
when  he  heard  it,  did  not  approve  of  this  step.  Murat  had  sent 
him  word  what  he  had  done,  with  an  account  of  the  events  of 
Aranjuez,  and  received  from  him  the  following  admirable  letter 
in  answer,  which  would  almost  show  that  he  was  precipitated 
into  his  subsequent  measures  by  the  strength  of  sudden  temptation 
or  by  the  baseness  and  inefficiency  of  those  he  had  to  deal  with. 

•■  March  29th.  1S0S. 

"  Monsieur  the  Grand-Duke  of  Berg — I  am  afraid  lest  you 
should  deceive  me  with  respect  to  the  situation  of  Spain,  and  lest 
you  should  also  deceive  yourself.  Events  have  been  singu- 
larly complicated  by  the  transaction  of  the  20th  of  March.  I  find 
myself  very  much  perplexed. 

'•Do  not  believe  that  you  are  about  to  attack  a  disarmed  peo- 
ple, or  that  you  can  bv  merely  showing  your  troops  subjugate 
Spain.  The  revolution  of  the  "20th  of  March  proves  that  the 
Spaniards  still  possess  energy.  You  have  to  do  with  a  new  peo- 
ple. It  has  all  the  courage  and  will  display  all  the  enthusiasm 
shown  by  men,  who  are  not  worn  out  bv  political  passions. 

"  The  aristocracy  and  the  clergy  are  the  masters  of  Spain.  If 
Ihev  are  alarmed  for  their  privileges  and  existence,  they  will 
lirmir  into  the  field  against  us  levies  in  mass,  which  might  eter 
nise  the  war.  I  am  not  without  partisans  :  if  I  present  myself 
as  a  conqueror,  I  shall  have  them  no  longer. 

'•The  Prince  of  the  Peace  is  detested,  because  he  is  accused 
of  having  betrayed  Spain  to  France.  This  is  the  grievance 
which  has  assisted  Ferdinand's  usurpation.  The  popular  is  the 
weakest  party. 


AFFAIRS   OF   SPAIN.  S93 

"  The  Prince  of  the  Asturias  does  not  possess  a  single  quality 
requisite  for  the  head  of  a  nation.  That  will  not  prevent  hia 
being  ranked  as  a  hero,  in  order  that  he  may  be  opposed  to  us. 
I  will  have  no  violence  employed  against  the  personages  of  this 
family.  It  can  never  answer  any  purpose  to  make  one's-self 
odious  and  inflame  animosity.  Spain  lias  a  hundred  thousand 
men  under  arms,  more  than  are  necessary  to  carry  on  an  internal 
war  with  advantage.  Scattered  over  different  parts  of  the  coun- 
try, they  may  serve  as  rallying  points  for  a  total  insurrection  of 
the  monarchy. 

"  I  lay  before  you  all  the  obstacles  which  must  inevitably 
arise.  There  are  others  of  which  you  must  be  aware.  England 
will  not  let  the  opportunity  escape  her  of  multiplying  our  embar- 
rassments. She  daily  sends  advice  to  the  forces  which  she  main- 
tains on  the  coast  of  Portugal  and  in  the  Mediterranean,  and  en- 
lists into  her  service  numbers  of  Sicilians  and  Portuguese. 

'■  The  Royal  Family  not  having  left  Spain  to  establish  itself  in 
the  Indies,  the  state  of  the  country  can  only  be  changed  by  a  Re- 
volution. It  is  perhaps,  of  all  others  in  Europe,  that  which  is  the 
least  prepared  for  one.  Those  who  perceive  the  monstrous  vices 
of  the  government  and  the  anarchy  which  has  taken  place  of  the 
lawful  authority,  are  the  fewest  in  number.  The  greater  num- 
ber profit  by  those  vices  and  that  anarchy. 

"  I  can,  consistently  with  the  interests  of  my  Empire,  do  a  great 
deal  of  good  to  Spain.      What  are  the  best  means  to  be  adopted  ? 

"  Shall  I  go  to  Madrid  ?  Shall  I  take  upon  myself  the  office 
of  Grand  Protector  in  pronouncing  between  the  father  and  the 
son  ?  It  seems  to  me  a  matter  of  difficulty  to  support  Charles 
IV.  on  the  throne.  His  government  and  his  favorite  are  so  very 
unpopular  that  they  could  not  stand  their  ground  for  three 
months. 

L-  Ferdinand  is  the  enemy  of  France  :  it  is  for  this  he  has  been 
made  King.  To  place  him  on  the  throne  would  be  to  serve  the 
factions  which  for  twenty  years  have  longed  for  the  destruction 
cf  France.  A  family-alliance  would  be  but  a  feeble  tie:  the 
Queen  Elizabeth  and  other  French  princesses  have  perished  mis- 
erably, whenever  they  could  be  immolated  with  impunity  to  the 
atrocious  spirit  of  vengeance.      My  opinion  is  that  nothing  should 

18* 


394  LIFE    OF    XAPOLEOX. 

be  hurried  forward,  and  that  we  should  take  counsel  of  events  as 
they  occur.  It  will  be  necessary  to  strengthen  the  bodies  of 
troops  which  are  to  be  stationed  on  the  frontiers  of  Portugal,  and 
wait. 

"  I  do  not  approve  of  the  step  which  your  Imperial  Highness 
has  taken  in  so  precipitately  making  yourself  master  of  Madrid. 
The  army  ought  to  have  been  kept  ten  leagues  f  cm  the  capital. 
You  had  no  assurance  that  the  people  and  the  magistracy  were* 
about  to  recognize  Ferdinand  without  a  struggle.  The  Prince 
of  the  Peace  must  of  course  have  partisans  among  those  employed 
in  the  public  service  :  there  is  also  an  habitual  attachment  to  the 
old  King,  which  might  lead  to  certain  consequences.  \our  en- 
trance into  Madrid,  by  alarming  the  Spaniards,  has  powerfully 
assisted  Ferdinand.  I  have  ordered  Savary  to  wait  on  the  old 
King  and  see  what  passes.  He  will  concert  measures  with  your 
Imperial  Highness.  J  shall  hereafter  decide  on  what  is  finally 
accessary  to  be  done.  In  the  meantime,  the  following  is  the  line 
of  conduct  I    judge  lit  to  prescribe  to  you. 

••  You  will  not  pledge  me  to  an  inti  rview  in  Spain  with  Ferdi- 
nand, unless  you  consider  the  state  of  things  to  be  such  that  I 
ought  to  acknowledge  him  as  King  of  Spain.  You  will  behave 
with  attention  and  respect  to  the  King,  the  Queen,  and  Prince 
Godoi.  1  ou  will  exact  for  them  and  yourself  pay  them  the  same 
's  as  formerly.  You  will  manage  so  that  the  Spaniards  shall 
have  no  suspicion  which  part  I  mean  to  take  :  you  will  find  the 
less  difficulty  in  this,  as  I  do  not  kn  >w  myself. 

"You  will  make  the  nobility  and  chugy  understand  that  if  the 
interference  of  Franc0  be  requisite  in  the  affairs  of  Spain,  their 
privileges  and  immunities  will  be  respected.  \du  will  assure 
Li' m  that  the  Fmperur  wishes  for  the  improvement  of  the  politi- 
cal mstituti  ins  of  Spain,  in  order  t  i  put  her  on  ;i  lb  'ting  with  the 
a.'ed  state  of  civilization  in  Furope,  and,  to  tree  her  from  the 
y  ,ke  of  favorites.  You  will  tell  th-  magistrates  and  the  inhabit- 
i.nts  :  '  .vns  and  the  well -in  f  irnied  classes,  that  Spain  st  tnds  in 
heed  of  having  the  machine  of  her  government  re-organized,  and 
that  she  requires  a  system  f  laws  to  prut  eel  the  people  against 
the  vrannv  and  cucroachm*  nts  of  feii  lality,  with  institutions  that 
n:av  revive  industry,  agriculture,  and  the  arts.      \  ou  will  describe 


AFFAIRS   OF   SPAIN.  395 

to  them  the  state  of  tranquillity  and  plenty  enjoyed  by  Fiance, 
notwithstanding  the  wars  in  which  she  has  been  constantly  en- 
gaged, and  the  splendor  of  religion,  which  owes  its  establishment 
to  the  Concordat  which  I  have  signed  with  the  Pope.  You  will 
explain  to  them  the  advantages  they  may  derive  from  political  re 
generation ;  order  and  peace  at  home,  respect  and  influence 
abroad.  Such  should  be  the  spirit  of  your  conversation  and  your 
writings.  Do  not  hazard  any  thing  hastily.  I  can  wait  at  Bay- 
onne  ;  I  can  cross  the  Pyrenees,  and  strengthening  myself  to- 
wards Portugal,  I  can  go  and  carry  on  the  war  in  that  quarter. 

"  I  shall  take  care  of  your  particular  interests  ;  do  not  think 
of  them  yourself.  Portugal  will  be  at  my  disposal.  Let  no  per- 
sonal object  engage  you  or  influence  your  conduct ;  that  would  be 
injurious  to  me  and   would  be  still  more    hurtful  to  yourself. 

"  You  are  too  hasty  in  your  instructions  of  the  14th  ;  the  move- 
ment you  order  C'eneral  Dupont  to  make  is  too  sudden,  on  ac- 
count of  the  event  of  the  19th  of  March.  They  must  be  altered  ; 
you  will  make  new  arrangements  :  you  will  receive  instructions 
from  my  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs. 

"  I  enjoin  the  strictest  maintenance  of  discipline  :  the  slightest 
faults  must  not  go  unpunished.  The  inhabitants  must  be  treated 
with  the  greatest  attention.  Above  all,  churches  and  convents 
must  be  respected. 

"  The  army  must  avoid  all  misunderstanding  with  the  bodies 
and  detachments  of  the  Spanish  army  ;  a  single  flash  in  the  pan 
must  not  be  permitted  on  either  side. 

'•  Let  Solano  march  beyond  Badajoz  :  but  watch  his  move- 
ments. Do  you  yourself  trace  out  the  routes  of  my  army,  that 
it  may  always  be  kept  at  a  distance  of  several  leagues  from 
die  Spanish  corps.      If  war  is  once  kindled,  all  would  be  lost. 

"  The  fate  of  Spain  can  alone  be  decided  by  political  views 
and  by  negociation.  I  charge  you  to  avoid  all  explanation  with 
Solano,  as  well  as  with  the  other  Spanish  generals  and  governors. 
Vou  will  send  me  two  expresses  daily.  In  ease  of  events  of  su- 
perior interest,  vou  will  dispatch  officers  of  ordonnance.  You 
will  immediately  send  back  the  Chamberlain  do  Tournon,  the 
bearer  of  this  dispatch,  and  give  him  a  detailed  report. 

(Signed)  Napoleon.'*' 


39G 


LIFE   OF   XAPOLLON. 


In  this  letter  (and  it  no  doubt  expressed  his  genuine  and  delib- 
erate sentiments)  Buonaparte  seems  feelingly  alive  to  the  diffi- 
culties of  his  situation,  to  t he  nature  of  the  struggle  in  which  he 
might  be  involved,  and  the  dormant  character  of  the  people  ;  to 
he  aware  of  the  disadvantages  under  which  Spain  labored,  and 
the  excessive  caution  and  delicacy  that  must  be  employed  in  re- 
moving them.  It  would  be  too  much  to  suppose  that  his  views 
and  purposes  were  changed  by  his  nearer  acquaintance  with  the 
Spanish  Princes,  and  that  as  he  himself  says,  "when  he  found 
what  poor  creatures  they  were,  he  felt  compassion  for  a  great 
nation,  over  whom  they  were  placed  ;"'"  fir  his  joy  at  the  approach 
of  Ferdinand  and  his  astonishment  at  his  trusting  himself  in  his 
hands,  show  too  clearly  the  use  he  intended  or  thought  it  possible 
to  make  of  the  circumstance.  But  it  is  probable  that  the  previ- 
ous design  he  had  formed  was  fixed  and  rendered  palatable  to 
himself  by  being  let  into  the  infirmities  of  this  roval  group,  the 
besotted  King,  the  changeling  son.  the  mother  proclaiming  her- 
self a  strumpet  to  prove  her  son  a  bastard  ;*  and  that  these  re- 
peated scenes  of  indecency  and  folly  took  away  not  only  all  com- 
passion for  the  performers  in  them,  but  piqued  the  pride  which 
he  felt  in  his  conscious  superiority  over  these  legitimate  sover- 
eigns to  set  aside  their  preposterous  pretensions  and  treat  them 
as  their  inherent  qualities  deserved.  lie  beheld  an  immense  en- 
gine of  power  within  his  reach,  and  conceived  a  strong  desire  to 
snatch  it  from  the  baby-hands  that  knew  not  how  to  wield  it.  In 
this  there  was,  it  is  true,  a  sort  of  natural  justice,  which  save  an 
indirect  warrant  to  the  dictates  of  his  ambition  and  self-will. 
Under  his  guidance  he  foresaw  a  brilliant  prosperity  and  grow- 
ing strength  in  reserve  for  Spain,  and  he  did  :i  it  think  it  riuhi 
that  a  couple  of  roval  marmozets  should  stand  in  the  way  of  the 
■ct.  If-  wanted  to  new-color  the  map  f  Europe,  and  nr 
this  purpose  the  old  boundaries  must  be  effaced.  lie  felt  in  him- 
sr  If  the  uhilitv  to  infuse  new  life  and  vit_ror  into  "the  vast  d 
ions  ,,f  Charles  V.  on  which  the  sun  never  sets."  and  to  raise  up 
the  Spanish  monarchy  from  its  tomb;  and  male  lisht  (to  attain 
so   important   an  object)   of  kidnapping  its   reigning  princes  ktA 

*  Tliis  trait  rests  on  the  authority  of  Don  PcJro  Ccvallos:   Buonaparte 
denies  it 


AFFAIRS   OF   SPAIN  397 

leading  a  whole  nation  to   its  good,  blindfolded   and   against  its 
will. 

Two  things  suggest  themselves  here  from  Napoleon's  failure 
on  this  occasion.  The  first  is  the  necessity  of  justice  on  the  lib- 
eral side  of  the  question.  Others  may  do  and  have  done,  since 
the  world  began,  very  well  without  it :  but  we  cannot.  We  have 
not  custom,  prejudice,  fashion,  and  a  thousand  things  to  eke  out 
our  imperfections  :  we  have  nothing  but  our  good  cause  and  our 
good  name  to  carry  us  through,  and  we  cannot  afford  to  have 
them  fairly  called  in  question.  We  appeal  to  justice  ;  and  by 
that  we  must  abide.  Our  adversaries  pay  us  the  compliment  to 
criticise  us  severely,  and  with  reason,  for  we  challenge  the  com- 
parison. They  who  set  up  no  other  pretension  than  the  right  of 
the  strongest  or  of  prescription,  can  never  be  in  the  wrong  while 
thev  are  uppermost,  or  while  the  person,  it  not  the  act,  is  legiti- 
mate. On  the  other  hand,  our  smallest  fault  "  shows  ugly"  by 
the  side  of  the  abstract  standard  of  public  good  which  we  have 
fondly  erected  ;  and  our  most  casual  departure  from  this  shocks 
public  opinion  and  alienates  numbers.  This  is  seen  remarkably 
in  the  present  instance.  Buonaparte,  by  seizing  on  a  crown  that 
did  not  belong  to  him,  raised  an  universal  hubbub  of  indignation 
against  him  from  one  end  of  Europe  to  the  other,  which  has  not 
subsided  to  this  hour.  The  reason  is.  he  had  no  traditional  right 
or  privilege  to  plead,  and  stood  or  fell  by  his  own  act  or  deed. 
That  very  crown  that  Buonaparte  wrested  from  Ferdinand,  the 
latter  had  torn  with  insolence  and  perfidy  from  his  father's  brow, 
though  no  more  notice  was  taken  of  this  circumstance  than  if  it 
had  descended  to  him  in  the  course  of  nature — he  lias  since  been 
the  parricide  of  libertv  and  of  his  country — no  one  is  surprised 
or  shocked  at  it,  it  produces  no  effect,  because  he  does  not  profess 
to  be  accountable  to  any  law  but  his  own  will,  and  is  absolved 
by  his  birth  from  everv  tie  of  humanity  and  justice.  That  which 
bv  a  received  formula  sets  itself  above-  the  law  is  also  raised  above 
opinion . 

Again,  if  any  one  could  pretend  to  govern  by  dint  of  meie 
abilitv  and  skill,  it  was  Buonaparte  :  no  one  devised  or  carried 
into  effect  greater  or  more  beneficial  designs  for  his  own  or  other 
countries  :  yet  all  his  schemes  at  last  recoiled  upon  himself,  from 


398  LIFE   OF   XAPOLEO>T. 

his  not  allowing  the  popular  voice  and  wish  to  act  as  an  habitual 
counterpoise  and  corrective  to  the  deductions  of  reason  or  the 
glosses  of  ambition.  No  one  individual  is  as  wise  as  the  whole 
put  together  ;  or  if  he  were  ten  times  wiser,  his  wisdom  is  not 
adapted  to  their  ignorance.  The  more  lofty  and  extensive  his 
views,  the  less  approbation  and  the  more  obstacles  they  will  meet 
with  ;  and  no  man  can  stamp  the  seal  of  his  understanding  on 
the  public  weal,  unless  it  is  first  melted  by  the  warmth  of  attach- 
ment and  sympathy.  It  is  not  enough  that  things  are  good  in 
themselves  :  they  require  time  and  custom  to  make  them  desira- 
ble ;  and  these  will  make  the  worst  endurable.  If  the  people  are 
enlightened  and  judges  of  the  good  intended  for  them,  then  they 
have  a  right  to  he  consulted  :  if  they  are  ignorant  and  incompe- 
tent, then  they  will  spit  our  improvements  back  in  our  face. 
Truth  indeed  will  prevail  in  the  end  with  fair  play,  but  not  by  a 
fiat  of  the  will  ;  and  all  that  force  can  do,  is  to  neutralize  the 
force  opposed  to  its  diffusion.  Buonaparte  viewed  the  matter  in 
too  literal  and  mechanical  a  light  ;  and  thought  that  nations  were 
to  be  drilled  like  armies.  His  system  savored  too  much  of  his 
school-studies.  Had  lie  been  a  metaphysician  instead  of  a  ma- 
thematician, he  Mould  not  have  fallen  into  this  error  ;  but  then 
he  would  not  have  gained  battles  nor  raised  himself  to  the  height 
he  did.  There  is  nothing  that  people  resent  more  than  having 
benefits  thrust  upon  them  :  it  is  adding  insult,  as  they  think,  to 
injury.  Our  attack  on  Copenhagen  the  year  before  was  bad 
enough,  and  was  loudly  exclaimed  against  :  hut  it  was  nothing 
(in  the  vulgar  estimation)  to  this  affair  of  Spain.  We  went  as 
open  and  declared  enemies,  determined  to  do  the  Danes  all  the 
mischief  we  could,  fir  our  own  sakes.  We  took  their  ships  from 
them  ;  we  did  not  pretend  to  give  them  any  thing  in  exchange. 
This  was  honest  and  above -hoard.  Mankind  above  all  things  hate 
to  he  made  the  dupes  of  doubtful  professions  of  wisdom  and  be- 
nc\  ih  nee. 

There  is  another  letter  of  Buonaparte's  of  nearly  the  same 
dale  with  the  one  above  quoted,  addressed  to  Ferdinand,  which, 
if  meant  to  cajole  the  Prince,  is  had  enough:  if  serious,  is  still 
wi.rse.  There  are  expressions  in  it  about  Kings  and  the  People, 
trulv   worthy  of  his  correspondent  ;   and    which  could  never  be 


AFFAIRS   OF   SPAIN.  399 

forgiven  in  him,  but  that  he  afterwards  met  with  enough  to  cure 
him  of  this  delusion,  and  that  his  atttempts  to  pass  beyond  his 
proper  sphere  and  character  were  as  unavailing  as  those  of  the 
child  to  leap  over  its  own  shadow.  The  factitious  elevation  from 
which  he  here  pretends  to  look  down  upon  the  people  will  ac- 
count for  the  little  resistance  he  might  be  supposed  to  expect  from 
them  and  the  thoughtless  provocation  he  gave  them  much  bet- 
ter than  his  grave  and  manly  advice  to  Murat,  so  as  to  produce 
a  direct  contradiction  in  terms.  His  disposition  to  screen  Godoi 
and  to  check  every  spontaneous  impulse  of  popular  feeling  are 
also  very  bad  symptoms.  But  if  the  intoxication  of  supreme 
power  so  soon  turns  the  head  of  the  individual  (as  it  were  in 
spite  of  himself)  what  must  it  do  in  the  course  of  generations 
and  when  the  poison  is  infused  into  the  very  blood  ?  But  to  pro- 
ceed.— Ferdinand,  uneasy  at  not  being  recognized  as  King  by 
Murat,  and  anxious  to  pay  his  court  to  Buonaparte,  set  out  for 
Bayonne,  whither  the  latter  had  come  on  his  way  to  Madrid.* 
This  resolution  was  taken  without  the  advice  of  the  Council,  and 
by  no  means  pleased  the  people.  He  left  the  capital  on  the 
10th  of  April,  having  appointed  a  regency  with  the  infant  Don 
Antonio  at  its  head,  and  reached  Vittoria  on  the  16th.  His  pro- 
gress was  signalized  the  whole  way  with  every  demonstration  of 
attachment  and  triumph.  Some  of  the  inhabitants  in  the  excess 
of  their  zeal  strewed  their  garments  on  the  road  where  the  wheels 
of  the  roval  carriage  were  to  pass,  that  they  might  preserve  the 
marks  of  the  joyful  event  ever  after.  Sovereigns  so  beloved  can 
only  improve  on  this  homage  and  testimony  of  devotedness  by 
riding  over  the  necks  of  their  subjects  !  On  the  day  that  Ferdi- 
nand arrived  at  Vittoria,  the  commission  appointed  to  try  Godoi 
received  an  order  from  the  Regency  to  stop  proceedings  against 
him  ;  and  he  was  soon  afterwards  released  and  conducted  to  the 
frontier  by  Buonaparte's  desire — whether  it  was  that  the  Empe- 
ror wished  to  oblige  King  Charles  by  savins  the  life  of  his  fa- 
vorite, or  that  he  thought  he  might  learn  important  state-secrets 
from  a  man  who  had  ruled  Spain  by  a  nod  for  twenty  years  ;   or 

*  lie  was  induced  to  proceed  by  an  expression  in  Buonaparte's  letter 
(which  he  received  on  the  way)  that  "  he  felt  a  desire  to  converse  with  him 
on  certain  points" 


400  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

that  he  resolved  to  hold  in  his  own  hands  all  the  twisted  threads 
of  policy  ;  or  to  check  and  mortify  the  impatience  of  the  people 
for  vengeance  ;  or  finally,  to  show  favor  to  an  old  protege  and 
tolerably  faithful  ally.  Ferdinand  had  some  difficulty  to  escape 
from  the  loyalty  of  the  citizens  of  Vittoria,  who  were  disposed  to 
detain  him  by  force  among  them,  till  he  assured  them  of  the  per- 
fect good  understanding  between  himself  and  the  French  Emperor. 
On  the  13th  he  received  Napoleon's  letter  ;  and  still,  in  spite  of 
the  remonstrances  of  his  most  judicious  friends,  determined  to 
proceed.  He  left  Vittoria  on  the  19th,  and  from  I  run  sent  for- 
ward an  aide-de-camp  of  the  Emperor's  with  a  letter  to  say  that 
he  should  be  at  Bayonne  the  next  day,  if  agreeable  to  his  Majesty. 
Buonaparte,  when  he  received  the  news  from  his  aide-de-camp, 
could  hardly  believe  it.  "  How  V'  he  exclaimed — "  Is  he  coming  ? 
No  !  it  is  not  possible  !'"'  rI  hese  words  have  been  quoted  to  show 
that  Buonaparte  had  no  malice  prepense,  no  ill  intentions  in  the 
business.  They  appear  to  me  to  show  the  contrary.  What  ! 
was  France  become  a  robber's  cave,  that  it  was  dangerous  for  a 
foreign  Prince  to  trust  himself  in  it  ?  Every  man  who  comes  into 
your  house  puts  himself  in  your  power  ;  but  that  alone  does  net 
give  you  the  right  to  seize  upon  his  purse  or  person.  It  is  true, 
it  does  not  appear  that  Buonaparte  either  decoyed  or  invited  the 
Spanish  princes  into  his  territory  :  he  merely  let  tJiem  come  upon 
an  understanding  of  good  faith,  and  all  that  he  had  to  do  was  to 
let  them  go  lack  again.  Would  that  he  had  !  It  would  have  had 
a  much  less  injurious  effect  if  he  had  gained  possession  of  their 
persons  by  main  force,  than  under  a  mask  of  hospitality  and 
friendship. 

The  Prince  of  the  Asturias  arrived  at  Bavonne  on  the  20th. 
The  Emperor  had  sent  no  one  to  the  frontiers  to  receive  him  ;  but 
Berthier,  Duroc,  and  the  Count  d'Angosse  went  to  meet  him  a 
little  wav  out  of  the  town.  An  hour  after,  Napoleon  went  to 
pav  him  a  visit,  which  lasted  onlv  a  short  time;  and  the  Grand- 
Marshal  was  then  sent  to  invite-  the  Prince  to  dinner,  together 
will)  Don  Carlos,  the  Duke  de  1'Infantado,  AI.de  Cevallos,  the 
Abbe  Excoiquitz,  and  others.  Napoleon  descended  to  the  bottom 
of  the  steps,  where  the  carriage  of  the  Prince  drew  up;  which 
was  the  only  time  he  paid  him  any  of  the  marks  of  attention  usual 


AFFAIRS   OF   SPAIN.  40i 

towards  crowned  heads.  At  dinner  he  avoided  with  great  care 
cabling  him  either  by  the  title  of  your  Majesty  or  your  High- 
ness. He  however  made  up  for  this  omission  by  great  courtesy 
to  him  and  his  suite  ;  all  of  whom  went  away  apparently  well 
pleased  with  their  reception.  An  hour  after  Ferdinand  had  re- 
turned home,  he  is  said  to  have  received  a  message  to  announce 
that  he  would  be  treated  only  as  Prince  of  the  Asturias,  till  the 
King  should  arrive  at  Bayonne,  when  the  dispute  might  be  cleared 
up  between  them. 

The  ncgociations  began  the  day  after  the  arrival  of  Ferdinand, 
but  made  little  progress.  On  the  27th,  Josephine  arrived  at  the 
Chateau  de  Marrac,  and  preparations  were  made  for  the  recep- 
tion of  the  old  court  of  Spain.  The  Spanish  Princes  were  closely 
watched,  and  all  their  letters  seized  and  opened  at  the  frontier. 
Even  the  market-women  were  roughly  handled  by  the  Custom- 
house officers,  as  they  had  often  dispatches  found  on  them  for 
Spanish  emissaries  who  were  waiting  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Bidassoa.  Early  on  the  morning  of  the  29th  the  Emperor  had 
his  Prefect  of  the  Palace  (who  was  acquainted  with*  Spanish) 
called  up,  and  made  him  translate  the  following  letter  word  for 
word  from  the  original. 

"  To  Don  Antonio. 

'•Bayonne.  April  28th,  1808. 

"Dear  Friend, — I  have  received  thy  letter  of  the  24th,  and 
have  read  the  copies  of  two  others  which  it  encloses,  the  one  from 
Murat  and  thy  answer:  I  am  satisfied  with  it;  I  have  never 
doubted  thy  discretion  nor  thy  friendship  for  me.  I  know  not 
how  to  thank  you  for  it. 

"  The  Empress  arrived  here  yesterday  in  the  evening  at  seven 
o'clock:  there  were  only  some  little  children  who  cried  Long 
live 'Ike  Empress!  Besides,  even  these  cries  were  very  feeble  ; 
she  passed  without  stopping,  and  went  immediately  to  Marrac, 
where  1  shall  go  to  visit  her  to-day. 

"  Cevallos  yesterday  had  a  warm  dispute  with  the  Emperor, 
who  called  him  traitor,  because  having  been  minister  under  my 
father,  he  had  attached  himself  to  me,  and  that  this  was  the  cause 
of  the  contempt  he  had  for  him.      I  don't  know  how  Cevallos  con- 

34* 


402  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 

tained  himself,  for  he  is  easily  irritated,  particularly  in  hearing 
such  reproaches.  I  had  not  till  to-day  so  well  known  Cevallos* 
I  see  that  he  is  a  man  of  probity,  who  regulates  his  sentiments 
according  to  the  true  interests  of  his  country,  and  that  he  is  of  a 
firm  and  vigorous  character;  such  as  we  need  in  circumstances 
like  the  present. 

"  I  apprise  thee  that  Maria-Louisa  (Queen  of  Etruria)  has 
written  to  the  Emperor,  that  she  was  witness  of  the  abdication  of 
my  father,  and  that  she  can  state  that  it  was  far  from  voluntary. 

"  Govern  well,  and  take  care  lest  these  cursed  French  should 
play  thee  false.  Receive  the  assurances  of  my  most  tender  at- 
tachment. Ferdinand." 

The  Emperor  while  reading  this  letter  appeared  hurt  at  what 
concerned  the  Empress,  but  still  more  indignant  at  the  expression 
"these  cursed  French."  -Are  you  quite  sure  that  that  is  the  ex- 
act word  V'  he  said  to  his  interpreter;  who  showed  him  the  word 
in  Spanish — Malditlos.  "  That  is  it,  sure  enough/'  said  Xa- 
Doleon,  "  this  word  is  almost  Italian."  This  letter  cost  both  par- 
ties dear  ;  and  is  an  argument  to  point  out  the  danger  of  such 
clandestine  m  >des  of  getting  at  information  :  for  if  we  might  else 
remain  hi  the  dark  as  to  the  real  intentions  of  our  adversaries,  we 
are  thus  led  to  draw  false  and  overstrained  conclusions.*  The 
seeming  duplicitv  provokes  us,  and  does  not  leave  us  at  leisure  to 
make  allowance  for  the  difference  between  a  casual  expression  of 
spleen  or  impatience,  and  a  deliberate  avowal  that  the  parties 
would  act  upon.  Ferdinand  could  hardly  be  expected  to  like  the 
French  as  well  as  the  Spaniards,  or  in  forgot  that  Josephine  was 
not  born  a  princess:  yet  it  does  not  follow  that  he  would  have 
rrnno  to  war  with  the  one  or  would  not  have  been  glad  1o  marrv  a 
hi  cc  of  the  other.  Xapoloon,  however,  took  him  at  his  word, 
without  his  knowing  it  :  the  real  sentiments  and  hatred  of  Fcrdi- 
liind  were,  as  he  thought,  thus  revealed  to  him,  and  he  proceeded 

*  Buonaparte  remarks  that  when  the  Count  de  Xarbonne  was  sent  to 
Vicuna  in  1M';.  by  his  superior  sagicky  in  worming  out  the  secrets  cf  the 
Austrian  Cabinet,  lie  compelled  Austria  prematurely  to  declare  her*eif. 
which  otherwise  she  might  not  have  done  at  all.  So  doubtfulare  the  advan- 
'j-.ires  of  superior  limsse  and  cunning  ! 


AFFAIRS   OF   SPAIN.  403 

to  treat  him  accordingly.  That  same  evening  the  official  Gazette 
of  Bayonne  published  the  letter  of  Charles  IV.  to  Napoleon  with 
the  protest  against  his  abdication,  which  was  a  thunder-stroke  to 
the  Prince  and  his  party,  and  the  next  day  the  old  King  and 
Queen  of  Spain  reached  Bayonne. 

The  Emperor  had  sent  Duke  Charles  of  Placentia  and  the 
Prince  of  Neufchatel  to  Irun  and  the  borders  of  the  Bidassoa  to 
compliment  their  Catholic  Majesties,  who  on  their  entrance  into 
France  found  a  numerous  detachment  of  troops  ready  to  escort 
them.  They  were  received  at  Bayonne  with  the  greatest  hon- 
ors :  the  garrison  was  under  arms,  the  vessels  in  the  harbor  had 
their  colors  flying,  the  cannon  of  the  citadel  and  of  the  port  were 
fired,  and  the  whole  population  poured  out  to  welcome  them  with 
repeated  acclamations  as  friendly  and  powerful  sovereigns.  The 
Grand-Marshal  Duroc  received  them  at  the  government-palace 
and  presented  to  them  General  Count  Reille,  Count  du  Manoir, 
and  Count  Audenarde,  three  of  the  most  accomplished  of  Buona- 
parte's courtiers,  who  were  appointed  to  attend  them.  The  gran- 
dees of  Spain  who  were  at  Bayonne  followed  the  Prince  of  the 
Asturias,  who  went  to  meet  his  royal  parents  on  the  outside  of  the 
city.  On  their  return,  the  ceremony  of  kissing  hands  took 
place,  and  the  king  then  dismissed  the  assembly  of  nobles.  Fer- 
dinand considerably  at  a  loss  offered  to  follow  the  King,  when  the 
latter  extended  his  arms  to  prevent  him,  asking  in  a  tone  of  bit- 
terness, "  If  he  had  not  already  sufficientlv  outraged  his  father's 
grey  hairs  V  and  the  Prince  overwhelmed  by  the  reproach,  with- 
drew in  the  utmost  confusion.  Napoleon  went  to  visit  the  old 
King  and  Queen  soon  after,  and  stayed  a  long  time  with  them  ; 
but  did  not  invite  them  to  dinner  till  the  next  day,  leaving  them 
the  whole  day  to  enjoy  the  satisfaction  of  being  restored  to  their 
beloved  Godoi. 

The  escort  which  accompanied  their  Majesties  was  not  numer- 
ous, but  loaded  with  baggage  and  valuables.  The  carriages  of 
the  King,  made  after  the  model  of  those  of  the  time  of  Louis 
XIV.  which  had  conveyed  Philip  V.  into  Spain,  presented  a  sin- 
gular contrast  to  the  elegance  and  lightness  of  the  French  equip- 
ages. It  will  scarcely  be  believed  that  the  etiquette  of  the  court 
condemned  four  huge  lackeys,  in  grand  liveries    to  remain  stand 


404  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

ing  close  together  behind  the  King's  carriage  the  whole  way  from 
Madrid  to  Bayonne,  exposed  to  all  weathers  and  to  the  clouds  of 
dust  on  the  high  roads  ?  These  good  folks  took  a  journey  just  as 
if  they  were  going  to  pay  a  visit  in  the  neighborhood.  The  next 
morning,  when  the  Emperor's  carriage  came  to  fetch  the  King  and 
Queen,  who  had  expressed  a  desire  to  pay  the  first  visit  to  the 
Empress  Josephine,  the  King,  who  had  a  slight  attack  of  the  gout, 
and  besides  was  encumbered  with  his  sword,  could  hardly  get 
into  it,  and  was  afraid  of  trusting  his  weight  to  the  steps.  He 
laughed  at  his  own  embarrassment.  These  high  personages  were 
received  by  Josephine  with  all  the  grace  and  courtesy  which 
were  inseparable  from  her.  After  the  first  compliments  were 
over,  something  was  said  about  the  toilet,  and  the  Queen  gladly 
accepted  the  offer  of  Josephine  to  send  Duplan  to  give  her  women 
a  lesson  in  the  modern  art  of  head-dressing.  The  Queen  looked 
altered  indeed  by  submitting  to  the  fashion,  but  not  for  the  better. 
They  brought  the  Prince  of  Peace  with  them  to  dinner,  though 
he  had  not  been  invited.  In  going  to  the  dining-room,  Napoleon 
gave  his  hand  to  the  Queen  ;  and  walking  faster  than  usual,  he 
perceived  it  and  checked  himself,  saying,  "  Your  Majesty  perhaps 
finds  that  1  proceed  rather  fast  ?"  "  Sire,"  replied  the  Queen  smil- 
ing, u  it  is  your  usual  habit."  Buonaparte  answered  awkwardly 
enough,  as  if  he  had  stumbled  over  something,  that  "  from  Ins 
gallantry  to  the  ladies  lie  made  it  a  point  to  conform  in  all  things 
to  their  tastes."  On  sitting  down  to  table,  King  Charles  perceived 
that  his  favorite  was  not  there  :  "  But  Manuel, — but  Godoi  ?"  he 
said  :  and  the  Emperor  smiling  made  a  sign  that  he  should  be 
admitted.  The  conversation  turned  on  the  etiquette  and  cus- 
toms  of  the  two  courts  ;  and  Charles  IV.  spoke  of  his  passion 
for  hunting,  to  which  he  attributed  in  a  great  measure  his  gout 
and  rheumatisms.  "  Every  day,"  said  he,  "  whatever  the 
weather  might  be,  winter  and  summer,  I  set  off  after  break- 
fast and  after  having  heard  mass  :  I  hunted  till  one  o'clock,  and 
returned  to  it  again  immediately  after  dinner  till  the  close  of  day. 
In  the  evening  Manuel  took  the  pains  to  let  me  know  if  affairs 
went  well  or  ill  ;  and  I  retired  to  bed  to  begin  the  same  round  on 
the  morrow,  at  least   unless  some  important  ceremony  required 


AFFAIRS   OF   SPAIN.  405 


me  at   home."     Ever  since  his  accession  to  the  crown,  the  King 
had  led  no  other  life. 

In  the  midst  of  these  proceedings,  advices  came  from  Murat 
and  Don  Antonio  that  troubles  had  broken  out  at  Toledo  and 
Burgos.  Murat  in  a  letter  to  the  President  of  the  Council  took 
upon  himself  (in  direct  opposition  to  Buonaparte's  instructions)  to 
quell  these  tumults,  if  the  Regent  could  not  ;  and  sent  pressing 
and  almost  menacing  applications  to  him  to  appoint  an  extraordi- 
nary junta  of  the  principal  nobles  to  repair  to  Bayonne  to  deter- 
mine on  the  present  state  of  Spanish  affairs.  In  this  as  on  so 
many  other  occasions,  the  zeal  of  the  Grand-Duke  outran  his  dis- 
cretion. He  was  a  mere  swaggering  upstart  ;  and  Napoleon 
ought  never  to  have  trusted  him  with  the  smallest  responsibility 
beyond  that  of  heading  a  charge  of  cavalry.  But  it  was  his  foi- 
ble to  suppose  that  all  those  connected  with  him  were  capable  of 
great  things  as  well  as  himself,  or  that  he  could  supply  their  de- 
ficiencies out  of  his  own  superabundance.  In  the  night  of  the 
29th  of  April,  a  secret  council  was  held  at  Bayonne,  in  which 
the  Duke  de  l'lnfantado  gave  and  signed  his  opinion  that  Ferdi- 
nand had  not  the  right  either  for  himself  or  his  heirs  to  exchange 
the  crown  of  Spain  for  that  of  Etruria,  according  to  a  proposition 
that  had  been  made  the  preceding  day.  At  Madrid,  the  fermen- 
tation began  to  be  extreme.  The  people,  mad  at  seeing  the. 
Prince  whom  they  fondly  idolized  and  the  favorite  who  had  been 
given  up  to  their  vengeance  snatched  from  them,  grew  impotien*. 
to  know  the  fate  of  each  ;  nothing  transpired  through  the  regular 
channels,  as  the  couriers  and  dispatches  were  stopped  at  the  fron- 
tier, so  that  the  most  exaggerated  and  absurd  reports  prevailed 
In  this  state  of  irritation  and  painful  suspense,  a  French  soldieT 
was  killed  by  a  Spanish  peasant  in  the  streets  of  Madrid  on  the 
1st  of  May  ;  preparations  were  making  for  the  departure  of  the 
Queen  of  Etruria  and  of  the  Infant  Don  Antonio;  an  aide-de- 
camp  of  the  Grand  Duke  narrowly  escaped  being  assassinated  ; 
another  French  officer  was  severely  wounded  in  attempting  to 
disperse  a  mob.  Such  was  the  prelude  to  an  insurrection  which 
had  been  so  well  foreseen  that  the  Spanish  nobles  at  Bavonne 
wrote  to  their  wives  to  quit  Madrid  before  the  approaching  catas 
trophe.    The  French  writers  mention  this  to  prove  that  they  were 


406  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

not  the  assailants  in  this  business,  and  so  far  they  are  right :  but 
if  was  the  natural  consequence  of  treating  a  whole  nation  as  hav- 
ing no  will  of  their  own,  because  it  was  an  absurd  one,  and  of 
assuming  the  airs  of  a  second  Providence  over  them,  without  the 
privilege  of  invisibility. 


AFFAIRS   OF    SPAIN.  407 


CHAPTER    XL. 


THE    SA3IE    SUBJECT    CONTINUED. 


On  the  2d  of  May  early  in  the  morning,  the  assemblages  in 
the  streets  of  Madrid  became  more  numerous  and  threatening.  A 
great  number  of  peasants  had  been  let  into  the  city  the  day  be- 
fore. The  Grand-Duke  made  the  drums  beat  to  arms,  and 
stationed  a  strong  detachment  of  the  guard,  with  two  pieces  of 
artillery,  in  front  of  the  palace.  These  preparations  for  cierer.ce 
did  not  intimidate  the  people,  who  continued  to  provoke  and  insult 
the  French  troops  :  the  outrages  were  carried  to  such  a  pitch,  that 
orders  were  given  to  draw  up  the  men  in  form  of  battle,  and  to 
reply  by  a  fire  from  the  two  first  ranks.  The  grape-shot  had  the 
effect  of  dispersing  the  mob.  The  same  thing  took  place  at  the 
several  posts  occupied  by  the  French.  The  populace  were 
obliged  to  take  shelter  in  the  houses,  whence  they  contrived  to 
fire  from  the  windows  and  to  kill  a  great  number  of  the  soldiery. 
The  conflict  in  the  streets  and  in  the  houses  was  thus  kept  up 
witli  sanguinary  obstinacy  the  whole  day.  Towards  evening, 
the  Government,  protected  by  the  French  and  Spanish  troops  (the 
latter  of  whom  endeavored  to  appease  the  tumult)  published  a 
proclamation  which  for  some  hours  suspended  hostilities.  But 
the  information  which  the  rioters  obtained  of  the  approach  of 
fresh  troops,  instead  of  quieting,  only  made  them  more  furious 
than  ever.  The  night  was  dreadful  :  the  French  were  obliged  to 
force  open  the  doors  of  houses,  whence  musket-shots  were  dis- 
charged at  them:  the  rage  was  equal  on  either  side.  In  the 
street  oi  St.  "\  ictor,  the  mob*  got  possession  of  a  loaded  cannon, 

*  Do  not  the  mob  always  come  into  play,  whenever  there  is  a  general  and 
thorough  feeling  of  resistance  excited  in  the  community?  Their  stirring 
is  the  last  decisive  indication,  unless  merely  when  they  are  set  upon  by 
their  superiors.  Why  then,  when  they  appear  on  the  popular  side,  should 
'iiey  cast  a  slur  upon  it  ? 


403  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

pointed  it  against  a  column  of  French  cavalry,  and  brought  down 
a  great  number  of  them.  The  cannon  was  re-taken,  because  the 
peasants  who  had  seized  upon  it  had  no  ammunition  to  charge  it 
ag.nn  :  they  were  taken  prisoners  and  slaughtered  without  mercy. 
The  following  day  (the  3d)  was  tranquil  and  silent  as  the  tomb: 
the  fermentation  had  subsided;  the  insurgents  had  used  all  their 
ammunition,  had  suffered  great  loss  ;  and  it  was  by  cart-loads 
that  the  wouuded  were  conveyed  to  the  hospitals. 

The  Grand-Duke  of  Berg  (who  after  the  departure  of  Don 
Antonio  was  chosen  President  of  the  council)  published  a  procla- 
mation and  a  letter  to  General  Dupont  in  which  he  talked  big  of 
the  canaille  of  Madrid,  and  distributed  pardons  with  a  munificent 
hand.  Notwithstanding  which,  a  military  commission  was  ap- 
pointed to  try  the  insurgents,  and  some  hundreds  of  peasants  were 
shot.  This  piece  of  unnecessary  barbarity  and  the  carrying  off 
of  Don  Manuel  Godoi  were  the  two  things  which  the  Spaniards 
never  forgave.  The  Emperor  having  read  the  dispatches  which 
brought  him  an  account  of  the  events  of  the  "2nd  of  May  went 
in  search  of  the  King,  and  his  countenance,  over  which  he  had 
ordinarily  great  command,  betrayed  the  strongest  emotion.  Both 
the  King  and  Queen  were  in  the  room;  and  twice  during  the 
interview  Charles  left  the  apartment  to  go  and  give  Godoi  an 
account  of  what  was  passing.  Such  was  the  sort  of  infatuation, 
from  which  all  this  train  of  calamity  arose  !  It  was  agreed  to 
send  for  the  Prince.  It  has  been  pretended  that  when  Ferdinand 
entered  the  room,  the  three  sovereigns  remained  seated  ;  and  that 
during  the  whole  of  this  singular  interview  the  Prince  was  kept 
standing.  If  so,  it  must  have  been  with  the  marked  intention  to 
humble  him  and  render  him  tractable  to  good  advice,  as  it  was 
contrary  to  Napoleon's  habit  to  remain  seated  long  together;  and 
when  any  thing  interested  him.  he  usually  walked  up  and  down 
the  room,  while  venting  his  opinions  or  feelings.  King  Charles 
presenting  the  report  t  >  his  son  with  a  menacing  air,  said,  ••  R  ■.;  !, 
read  ;:'  ami  when  the  Prince  had  done  so,  li  Behold,"  said  the 
King,  "tiie  horrible  results  of  the  infamous  counsels  that  have 
been  given  you  by  perfidious  friends,  and  to  which  you  have 
yielded  with  a  culpable  eagerness,  thus  forgetting  the  respect 
which  was  due  to  me,  your  father  and  your  king :  you  have  exoi- 


AFFAIRS   OF   SPAIN.  40t) 

tei  the  revolt:  but  though  it  is  easy  to  kindle  a  popular  confla- 
gration, it  requires  other  hands  than  yours  to  extinguish  it."  The 
King  added  other  opprobrious  epithets  to  these  reproaches,  and 
declared  that  "  if  he  did  not  instantly  sign  the  abdication  of  the 
crown  he  had  usurped,  he  and  all  his  adherents  should  be  seized 
as  traitors  and  punished  as  such."  Ferdinand,  without  offering 
either  expostulation  or  resistance,  merely  replied  that  "he  had 
never  offended  his  father  intentionally;  and  that  if  his  happiness 
or  that  of  the  nation  required  it,  he  was  ready  to  tender  his  resi^. 
nation,"  showing  the  meekness  of  the  lamb  when  he  frit  himse'f 
in  the  power  of  others,  no  less;  than  the  cruelty  of  the  tiger  when 
he  had  got  them  in  his.  "Go  and  do  so,  then/'  said  his  father; 
and  the  next  day  (the  6th  of  -May)  after  having  consulted  with 
his  party,  he  signed  his  abdication  of  the  crown.  Charles  IV. 
was  no  sooner  in  formal  possession  of  this  document  than  he  hast- 
ened to  avail  himself  of  it  by  concluding  a  treaty  with  Napoleon, 
by  which  he  transferred  to  him  all  his  rights  to  the  throne  of 
Spain,  stipulating  only  the  independence  and  integrity  of  the  king- 
dom and  the  maintenance  of  the  Catholic  Religion  not  only  as 
dominant,  but  as  the  only  one  tolerated.  He  addressed  a  proclama- 
tion to  the  Councils  of  Castile  and  of  the  Inquisition,  informing 
them  of  the  circumstance,  and  hoping  for  their  approbation;  and 
Ferdinand  himself  with  the  other  princes  of  the  blood,  at  the  same 
time  testified  their  acquiescence  in  the  measure,  which  brought 
the  affairs  of  Spain  within  a  small  compass.  The  King  and 
Queen  of  Spain  with  Godoi  set  off  a  few  days  after  for  Fontaine- 
bleau  ;  and  Ferdinand -with  Don  Carlos  and  his  uncle  was  escorted 
without  parade  or  seeming  repugnance  to  Valencay,  where  he 
was  received  on  his  arrival  by  the  Prince  of  Benevenio,  the  pro- 
prietor  of  the  mansion,  and  where  he  remained  for  some  years, 
amusing  himself  with  embroidering  petticoats  for  the  Virgin  and 
from  time  to  time  writing  letters  to  Buonaparte,  demanding  one 
of  his  nieces  in  marriage. — While  Napoleon  was  making  this  ex- 
traordinary acquisition  to  his  dominions,  Alexander  had  robbed 
Sweden  of  Finland  :  but  that  country  submitted  with  a  good  grace 
to  the  gentle  violence  of  a  legitimate  monarch,  making  none  of 
those  outcries  or  convulsive  struggles  that  Spain  did,  and  soon 
after  making  common  cause  with  the  despoiler  and   ravisher,  t* « 

VOL.  II.  19  ^ 


410  LIFE   OF    NAPOLEON. 


put  a  stop  to  the  encroachments  and  ambition  of  France.  The 
hue-and-cry  of  liberty  is  never  raised  under  certain  auspices,  but 
to  cover  the  designs  of  slavery. 

It  mav  seem  strange  that  Charles  IV.  should  be  so  easily  pre- 
vailed upon  to  make  over  not  only  his  own  right  and  title  to  the 
throne,  but  those  of  his  son  and  of  his  heirs  and  successors  to  all 
posterity.  But  there  is  a  degree  of  incapacity  so  low  that  it  even 
unfits  men  for  being  kings  or  aspiring  to  be  so.  It  should  be 
recollected  that  it  is  only  a  fine  distinction  that  necessarily  sepa- 
rates the  tiara  from  the  slabbering-bib  ;  and  that  many  of  those 
who  in  modern  times  have  sat  upon  thrones  might  but  for  this 
elevation  have  been  doomed  to  wander  as  objects  of  pity  and 
scorn  about  some  village  in  their  own  dominions.  This  weakness 
of  understanding  when  joined  with  good-nature  has  a  tendency 
to  make  the  possessors  indifferent  to  power,  which  is  only  an  in- 
cumbrance to  them,  as  they  see  no  use  they  can  make  of  it  ;  the 
same  want  of  understanding  combined  with  malice  and  pride 
makes  them  proportionally  tenacious  of  authority,  for  mischief 
finds  its  objects  better  than  good-nature  ;  and  the  poorest  creature 
(if  trusted  with  power)  can  torment  and  worry  a  whole  nation, 
which  thenceforward  becomes  his  delight  and  ruling  passion. 
Such  seems  to  have  been  the  difference  between  the  father  and 
son  in  the  present  instance.  Charles  IV.  could  hardly  be  said 
himself  to  quit  a  throne  which  he  had  only  nominally  ascended  ; 
he  had  no  farther  satisfaction  in  a  country  from  which  Godoi  had 
been  banished,  and  could  still  exercise  his  sovereign  pleasure  in 
playing  duetts  on  the  fiddle  without  waiting  for  the  person  who 
was  to  accompany  him.  In  a  word,  few  kings  have  the  sense  to 
n  c  'llect  that  they  are  men:  Charles  had  not  enough  to  conceive 
how  be  could  ho  any  thing  more  than  a  private  gentleman:  and 
c  ntentcd  with  chasing  the  forest-deer,  instead  of'  bunting 
down  hi<  subjects  to  teach  some  future  Kinif  of  England  how  to 
rub'  over  slaves  and  deal  with  traitors'. 

It'  Buonaparte  had    placed  the   crown  of  Spain  on  Ins  own  head 

!  seemed  proud  of  it,  "as  he  had  titb-s  manif  Id"'  to  power 

.-•  r°icrnfy,  there   is  no  saying  whai  .  I    have   happened: 

but  as  if  it  had  not  already  been  band:,  d  about  enough  and  trifled 

with,  be    chose  to  transfer  it  once   more  ("to   show    how  light   and 


AFFAIRS    OF    SPAIN.  411 


worthless  it  was)  and  placed  it  on  his  brother  Joseph's  head. 
This  appears  to  have  exhausted  the  patience  of  the  Spaniards. 
Their  disgust  and  hatred  broke  out  in  the  most  furious  and  un- 
qualified terms  of  abuse  ;  they  called  their  new  king  "that  barba- 
rian. Joseph  Buonaparte,"  "  a  monster;''"*  and  the  juntas  of  the 
different  towns  had  the  "  Constitutional  Act"'  which  was  sent 
them,  burnt  by  the  common  hangman.  There  was  certainly  no- 
thing surprising  in  tiiis.  Custom  is  the  Cod  of  ignorance  :  and 
there  will  always  be  the  greatest  horror  of  innovation  in  the  most 
barbarous  and  uninformed  minds,  that  is.  whore  there  is  the 
greatest  need  of  it.  Those  who  read  and  reflect  know  what 
changes  have  taken  place  or  may  vet  take  place  in  the  world: 
those  who  know  only  the  obj-  ct  before  them,  what  their  senses  or 
their  blind  guides  teach  them,  have  no  conception  of  any  thing 
else  as  possible  or  endurable;  and  look  upon  every  change  as  a 
violence  done  to  nature.  The  strongest  antipathies  often  exist 
with  the  least  reason  for  thein  ;  nor  is  this  to  be  remedied,  since 
the  passions  arc  the  only  safe-guard  of  those  who  have  no  means 
of  guarding  against  injustice  or  imposture  by  knowledge  and 
principle.  Even  the  presence  of  Buonaparte  and  of  the  new  king 
himself  could  not  extort  any  cordial  or  unqualified  expressions  of 
allegiance  from  the  nobles  assembled  at  Bayonne  (7th  of  June)  to 
offer  their  congratulations.  The  Duke  de  l'Infantado  in  particu- 
lar stopped  short  in  the  midst  of  a  complimentary  address  by  sav- 
ing that  he  could  promise  no  more  till  the  nation  had  confirmed 
the  choice,  and  drew  upon  himself  on  the  spot  one  of  Napoleon's 
most  vehement  and  pointed  rebukes.  "  lou  are  a  gentleman, 
sir  :  behave  like  one:  and  instead  of  disputing  on  the  terms  of  an 
oath  which  you  mean  to  break  the  first  opportunity,  go  and  pu< 
yourself  at  the  head  of  your  party  in  Spain,  fight  openly  and  lov 
allv.  I  will  have  your  passport  delivered  to  vou,  and  I  give  vou 
rny  word  of  honor  that  the  advanced  posts  of  mv  army  shall  let 
vou  pass  freely,  without  molesting  vou.  This  is  the  course  be- 
coming a  man  of  honor."      The   Duke   stammered   out  a  numbe* 

*  This  "monster  and  barbarian"'   had  done  more  while  king  of  Xarle.' 
for  a  short   time  before   to  civilize  and  reform  that  wretched  country  thai 

would  have  been  done  by  a  me/wgerie  of  Bourbons  in  a  million  of  year? 
Shk  Mejioius  oi    Tin:   Deits  of   itovoo. 


412  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


of  excuses  and  professions  of  fidelity  :  "  You  are  wrong,"  said 
the  Emperor;  "  this  is  more  serious  than  you  think  for:  you 
will  forget  your  oath,  and  will  render  yourself  liable  to  be  shot — > 
perhaps  eight  days  hence."' 

Notwithstanding  these  heats  and  the  coldness  which  manifested 
itself  on  this  occasion,  the  Junta  met,  and  after  some  discussion 
adopted  unanimously  the  Constitution  proposed  to  them.  It  was 
much  the  same  as  that  afterwards  established  by  the  Cortes,  so 
i.  ricd  up  at  one  time  by  our  patriot.;  and  so  uuerlv  forgotten  since 
— it  abolished  the  Inquisition,  set  aside  feudal  services,  annulled 
many  oppressive  imposts,  and  provided  a  check  on  the  arbitrary 
power  of  the  crown,  by  restoring  the  Cortes  or  national  represen- 
tatives. Joseph  formed  an  administration,  among  whom  were  the 
Duke  de  I'Infantado  and  Don  Pedro  Cevallos,  and  set  out  on  the 
10th  of  July  for  .Madrid.  The  officers  of  state,  the  grandees  of 
Spain,  the  entire  Junta,  formed  his  escort  on  the  road.  By  the 
time  that  he  had  entered  Spain,  almost  all  the  provinces  were  in 
open  revolt;  the  harbors  were  covered  with  the  English  fleets; 
Biscay,  Catalonia,  Navarre.  Valencia,  Murcia,  Andalusia.  Estre- 
rnadura,  Galicia,  the  kingdom  of  Leon,  the  Asturias,  with  part 
of  the  two  Castiles,  fired  with  enthusiam  and  revenge,  were  up 
in  arms  ;  and  Saragossa,  already  besieged  ever  since  the  begin- 
ninir  of  June,  and  defended  by  the  gallant-minded  Palafox,  was 
firmly  resolved  to  bury  itself  under  its  ruins  rather  than  open  its 
gates  to  the  besiegers.  His  answer  to  a  summons  from  the  French 
General  to  capitulate  after  a  most  sanguinary  conflict  will  at 
once  explain  the  tone  and  spirit  that  animated  this  new  war. 

"Sn:, — If  your  master  sends  you  to  restore  the  tranquillity 
which  this  country  has  never  lost,  it  is  needless  that  he  should 
take  the  trouble.  If  1  am  hound  to  repay  the  confidence  which 
this  valiant  people  have  shown  in  drawing  mr  j'roin  the  retirement 
in  which  I  lived,  to  place  their  interests  and  their  glorv  in  mv 
hands,  it  is  plain  1  should  he  wanting  to  mv  duty,  were  I  to  aban- 
don them  on  the  mere  profession  of  a  friendship  in  which  1  do  not 
believe. 

'•  My  sword  guards  the  gates  of  their  capital,  and  my  honor  is 
pie Iged  for  its  security.      The   troops  must   take  some  repose,  be- 


AFFAIRS    OF   SPAIN.  413 

cause  they  are  exhausted  with  the  exertions  of  the  15th  and  10th, 
though  otherwise  they  are  indefatigable,  as  I  hope  to  be  myself 

"  So  far  is  the  dame  caused  by  the  indignation  of  Spaniards  at 
the  view  of  so  many  acts  of  injustice  from  being  appeased,  that  it 
is  thereby  the  more  increased.  It  is  easy  to  see  that  the  spies 
whom  you  keep  in  pay  send  von  false  reports.  A  great  part  of 
Catalonia  has  acknowledged  my  command,  as  well  as  a  consider- 
able portion  of  Castile.  The  captains-general  of  Valencia  and 
Murciahave  joined  me.  Galicia,  Estremadura,  the  Asturias,  and 
the  four  kingdoms  of  Andalusia  are  resolved  to  avenge  our 
wrongs.  The  troops  give  themselves  up  to  the  most  violent  ex- 
cesses ;  they  plunder,  insult,  and  massacre  with  impunity  the 
peaceable  inhabitants  who  have  given  them  no  sort  of  provoca- 
tion. 

"  Neither  that  nor  the  tone  which  your  Excellency  observes 
since  the  loth  and  16th  are  at  all  proper  to  satisfy  a  brave  people. 

'•  Let  your  Excellency  do  what  it  pleases  ;  1  shall  know  my 
duty. 

"  The  General  of  the  troops  of  Arragon, 
"  Palafox." 
h  In  my  head-quarters  at  Saragossa, 
the  ISth  of  June,  1S08." 

Such  were  the  lofty  port  and  words  which  at  this  period  accom- 
panied the  most  daring  feats  of  arms.  These  undaunted  expres- 
sions did  not  however  prevent  the  fall  of  Saragossa,  though  de- 
fended by  women  also  with  more  than  masculine  courage  and  self- 
devotedness.  It  was  twice  taken  and  retaken  with  dreadful  loss  and 
carnage.  Through  such  a  formidable  array  of  hostility  did  the 
new  King  reach  Madrid  on  the  '20th  of  July  ;  and  after  remain- 
ing there  eight  days  was  forced  in  consequence  of  the  capitula- 
tion of  Baylen  to  fly  to  Vittoria,  to  which  a  timely  passage  was 
opened  to  him  by  the  success  of  Marshal  Bessieres  at  Medina  del 
Rio  Soco.*  The  Emperor  heard  the  news  of  this  event  and  of 
the  disastrous  affair  of  Andujar  at  Bordeaux  on  his  way  back  to 
Paris.     On  the  12th  of  August,  the  Council  of  Spain  published  a 

*  Joseph  in  the  hurry  of  his  flight  left  behind  him.  among  other  things 
David's  picture  of  Napoleon  crossing  the  Alps. 


414  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 

decree  rejecting  and  declaring  null  and  void  the  abdication  of 
Charles  IV.  and  Ferdinand,  and  the  treaties  concluded  in  conse- 
quence between  France  and  Spain. 

This  may  be  considered  as  the  conclusion  of  the  first  act  of  the 
drama  of  the  Spanish  Revolution.  But  in  order  to  explain  tins 
result,  it  will  be  necessary  to  go  somewhat  more  into  detail.  The 
Spanish  Juntas,  which  were  established  in  every  province,  recom- 
mended it  to  the  troops  to  avoid  general  actions  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, to  make  the  contest  one  of  partisan- warfare,  and  to  avail 
themselves  of  the  advantages  which  the  nature  of  the  country  and 
habits  of  the  people  held  out  in  a  protracted  and  desultory  con- 
flict, instead  of  coming  in  contact  in  large  masses  and  regular 
combat  with  disciplined  and  veteran  troops.  But  it  was  easier  to 
give  this  advice  than  to  follow  it.  The  contest  was  one  of  pas- 
sion and  vengeance  ;  and  the  impatience  of  the  armed  peasantry, 
with  their  confidence  in  their  own  numbers  and  courage,  induced 
them  to  suspect  treachery,  and  even  to  put  to  death  those  gene- 
rals who  would  not  lead  them  on  to  give  immediate  battle  to  the 
French.  Solano  and  Filangieri  had  both  been  sacrificed  in  this 
manner.  Blake  succeeded  the  latter  in  the  command  of  the  Gali- 
cian  army,  which  was  in  this  state  of  insubordination.  Having 
managed  to  form  a  junction  with  the  levies  of  Castile  and  Leon 
under  Cuesta,  they  proceeded  together  towards  Burgos;  Cuesta, 
though  he  had  already  been  beaten  by  the  French  near  Cahcron 
(with  the  obstinacy  and  touchiness  of  an  old  soldier)  wishing  to 
hazard  the  event  of  a  battle,  while  Blake,  dreading  the  superior- 
ity of  the  French  discipline,  deprecated  the  risk  of  a  general 
action.  Bessieres,  who  bad  lately  defeated  the  insurgents  in 
Biscay  and  Navarre  in  several  partial  actions,  loft  them  however 
no  choice  on  the  subject,  lie  came  upon  them  suddenly  near 
Medina  del  Bio  Seco,  where,  on  the  1  1th  of  July,  the  combined 
armies  of  Galicia  and  Castile  suffered  the  most  calamitous  defeat 
which  the  Spaniards  had  yet  sustained.  The  insurgents  fought 
with  extreme  bravery — more  than  twenty  thousand  slain  were 
said  to  have  been  buried  on  the  held  of  battle.  The  news  of  this 
victory  at  so  critical  a  point  of  time  was  a  great  relief  to  Buona- 
parte. "  It  is,"  he  said,  "  the  battle  of  Villa-Viciosa.  Bessieres 
has  put  the  crown  on   Joseph's  head.      The   Spaniards  have  now 


AFFAIRS   OF   SPAIN.  415 

perhaps  fifteen  thousand  men  left,  with  some  old  blockhead  al 
their  head  :  the  resistance  of  the  Peninsula  is  ended."  The  vic- 
tory of  Medina  del  Rio  Seco  did  in  fact  enable  the  new  King  to 
advance  from  Vittoria  to  Madrid,  as  well  as  to  retire  from  it  eight 
days  after  without  molestation.  Ho  had  been  received  formally, 
but  without  any  of  the  usual  demonstrations  of  joy  on  such  occa 
sions;  nor  did  the  inhabitants  even  repair  to  the  theatres,  though 
they  were  thrown  open  at  the  public  expense. 

Hard  upon  the  heels  of  this  victory,  however,  followed  intelli- 
gence of  a  different  stamp  and  of  a  more  serious  import.  Du- 
hesme  (with  the  troops  that  had  taken  possession  of  Barcelona  and 
Figueras)  was  in  hopes  not  only  of  maintaining  himself  in  Cata- 
lonia, but  of  advancing  to  assist  in  the  subjugation  of  Valencia 
and  Arragon.  lie  was  notwithstanding  repulsed  by  the  natives, 
who  made  good  the  mountain-pass  of  Bruck  against  him,  and  com- 
pelled him  to  return  to  Barcelona.  Marshal  Moncey  met  with  no 
better  fortune  in  an  expedition  undertaken  against  Valencia.  He 
was  opposed  b\  all  the  phrenzy  of  popular  feeling  :  the  inhabitants 
rushed  to  man  the  walls — monks,  women  mingled  in  the  fray — 
and  unable  to  penetrate  into  the  city,  and  disappointed  of  the  re- 
inforcement which  lie  expected  from  Duhesme,  he  was  glad  to 
retreat  towards  the  main  French  army,  which  occupied  Old  and 
New  Castile.  A  worse  fate  attended  the  division  of  Dupont, 
which,  after  the  entrance  of  Murat  into  Madrid,  had  been  sent  on 
towards  Cadiz  ;  but  this  attempt  to  secure  that  commercial  city, 
and  to  protect  its  harbor,  seems  to  have  been  judged  premature 
by  Napoleon,  who  might  perhaps  wish  to  leave  the  passage  open 
for  Charles  IV.  to  have  made  his  escape  to  South  America,  in 
case  he  had  been  so  minded.  Dupont's  march  was  therefore 
countermanded  ;  and  he  proceeded  no  farther  than  Toledo,  till 
the  disposition  of  the  Andalusians  and  of  the  inhabitants  of  Cadiz 
showing  itself  more  and  more  hostile,  lie  was  ordered  forward  to 
preserve  that  important  seaport  and  the  French  fleet  which  was 
lying  there.  He  accordingly  advanced  southward,  traversed  the 
Sierra  Morena  (where  Don  Quixote  performed  such  wonders) 
forced  the  passage  of  the  Gaudalquiver,  and  gained  possession  of  tiie 
ancient  town  of  Cordova.  But  Cadiz  had  already  embraced  the  na. 
tional  cause  ;  the  French  squadron  was  in  the  hands  of  the  Stan- 


416  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 


iards  ;  and  Seville  and  its  Junta  were  organizing  large  levies  to  be 
added  to  a  regular  b  )  Iv  of  ten  thousand  men  under  Castanos  at  the 
camp  of  St.  Rocque  near  Gibraltar.  Dupont  in  this  situation  could 
neither  advance  nor  retreat.  The  passes  of  the  Sierra  Morena 
were  by  this  time  occupied  with  the  insurgent  mountaineers.  lie 
solicited  reinforcements  from  Portugal  and  .Madrid  ;  but  Junot 
had  at  present  too  much  on  his  hands  with  the  insurrection  of  the 
natives  and  the  threatened  descent  of  the  English  to  afford  him  as- 
sistance, and  lie  was  only  joined  by  two  brigades  under  G<  neral 
\  edel  and  Cohort,  detached  from  the  army  in  Castile.  With  this 
addition,  which  made  his  force  amount  to  twenty  thousand  men, 
he  thought  himself  strong  enough  to  attack  ;  and  accordingly  pro- 
ceeded to  occupy  Baylen,  and  took  the  old  Moorish  town  of  Jaen 
by  storm.  Here  they  were  presently  encountered  by  Castanos 
who  had  watched  their  movements  ;  and  after  a  severe  contest, 
were  compelled  to  fall  back  upon  Baylen.  Having  learnt  bv  an 
intercepted  dispatch  to  Savary  (who  had  succcedi  d  Murat  in  the 
command  of  the  army  of  Madrid)  the  straits  to  which  the  enemv 
was  reduced,  the  Spanish  general  followed  up  his  advantage,  and 
on  the  IGth  of  July  by  an  attack  on  various  points  drove  the 
French  back  on  Andujar  ;  General  Gobert  was  killed  in  the  ac- 
tion. On  the  night  of  the  lvth  and  through  the  greater  part  of 
the  following  day,  the  French  ma.de  a  desperate  attempt  to  re- 
cover the  village  of  Baylen,  which  was  st  aitlv  defended  against 
them  :  and  after  a  last  effort  to  redeem  the  victory  by  a  daring 
charge  at  the  head  of  his  tro  >ps.  General  1  )upont  f<  mini  himself  en- 
el  >sed  on  all  sides  by  a  superior  force,  and  obliged  to  surrender 
with  the  troops  under  his  immediate  command,  amounting  to  four- 
teen  or  fifteen  thousand  men.  The  division  of  Vedel,  which  had 
not  been  engaged,  was  excepted  from  this  stipulation,  but  was 
afterwards  included  in  it  by  a  breach  of  faith  on  the  part  of  the 
mis. 
The  event  of  this  battle  freed  the  south  of  Spain,  with  the  rich 
cities  of  Seville  and  Cadiz.  IV.  nn  the  dread  of  the  invading  armies  : 
and  the  new  s  of  it  shortly  after  reaching  Madrid  hastened  Joseph's 
departure  from  that  city.  Saraejossa  still  held  out  with  the  cour- 
age of  a  ma."  r  behind  her  old  Moorish  battlements,  till  the  con- 
vent  of   Santa    Encrracia    faliinit   in*o   .'lie  hands  of  the  besieger* 


AFFAIRS   OF   SPAIN.  417 

enabled  them  to  push  their  posts  into  the  town.  The  French 
general  (Lefebvre  Desnouettes)  announced  this  success  in  atrium- 
pliant  summons  : — "  Santa  Engracia — Capitulation."  <;  Saragossa 
— War  to  the  knife's  blade,"  was  the  equally  determined  answer. 
The  threat  was  made  good  ;  the  citizens  fought  from  street  to  street, 
from  house  to  house,  from  chamber  to  chamber  ;  the  combatants 
often  occupied  different  apartments  of  the  same  house  :  and  the  pas- 
sages which  connected  them  were  choked  up  with  the  dead.  After 
this  dreadful  struggle  had  continued  for  several  weeks,  the  gal 
hmt  defence  of  Saragossa  excited  at  once  the  courage  and  sym- 
pathy of  those  who  had  at  first  looked  on  only  with  fear  and  dis- 
trust ;  and  a  considerable  reinforcement  was  thrown  into  tiie 
place  in  the  beginning  of  August.  The  news  of  Dupont's  sur 
render  became  known  soon  after;  and  on  the  13th  of  August, 
Lefebvre  Desnouettes  evacuated  the  quarter  of  the  city  in  his  pos- 
session. He  blew  up  the  church  of  Santa  Engracia  and  other 
buildings,  and  finally  retreated  from  a  city  which  had  so  valiantly 
resisted   ins  arms. 

Buonaparte  was  at  Bourdeaux  (as  we  have  seen)  when  the  ac- 
count of  the  defeats  of  Andujar  and  Baylen  readied  him.  He 
bit  his  lips  ;  but  it  does  not  follow  that  lie  saw  in  it  the  overthrow 
of  all  his  fortunes  and  Europe  crumbling  beneath  his  feet,  as 
some  prophesiers  after  the  event  are  fain  to  imagine.  It  did  not 
cloud  the  eclat  of  the  rest  of  his  progress  to  the.  capital  :  he  was 
welcomed  all  the  way  by  triumphal  arches  and  the  most  unboun- 
ded expressions  of  adulation  as  having  revived  the  miracle  of  tiie 
aire  of  Louis  XIV.,  by  uniting  the  dynasties  of  France  and 
Spain  once  more  in  his  own  person.  The  splendor  of  the  achieve- 
ment was  too  dazzling  and  too  flattering  to  the  national  vanity  to 
suffer  the  French  to  look  narrowly  into  the  means.  It  was  no. 
till  a  reverse  of  fortune  that  their  eves  were  opened  to  detect  some 
flaws  in  tr,"  title-deed  to  so  much  glorv,  and  to  see  the  measure 
(stripped  of  success  and  without  any  of  the  beneficial  consequen 
ues  that  were  intended  to  flow  from  it)  in  all  its  abstract  deformity. 
This  would  have  been  the  time  (if  at  all)  for  them  to  have 
snown  themselves  men,  and  to  have  rein  mstrated  against  an  act 
of  injustice  and  meanness;  and  not  when  their  manhood  was  put 
on  only  to  escape  a  costigation.      As  for  Great  Britain,  that  noted 

19* 


419  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

Dully  and  scold,  aided  by  that  hardened  prostitute,  the  hireling 
)ress,  and  that  more  hardened  prostitute,  a  Ministerial  .Majority 
— hawking  about  her  contraband  wares  and  spurious  bales  of  in- 
iquity, scouring  the  seas  and  infesting  the  hind  with  her  officious 
alliance  and  shabby  diplomacy,  wheedling,  bribing,  raving,  vomit- 
ing out  defiance  and  death  on  all  who  would  not  cane  into  hei 
nefarious  projects,  winking  at  the  seizure  of  Finland  (in  hopes  the 
Russian  autocrat  might  in  time  fall  into  her  views,  seeing  his 
father's  end  before  his  eyes)  standing  and  dancing  with  her  arms 
a-I\inibo  on  the  smoking  ruins  of  Copenhagen,  and  snapping  her 
lingers  with  barefaced  contempt  at  the  distinctions  of  right  and 
v.r  ing  like  the  Dutchman  in  Candida,  "cur  CJifin  jr.  su/'s inate/ut'' 
— passing  up  and  down  the  Dardanelles  in  her  frantic  importunity 
to  make'  the  Grand  Turk  embrace  the  cause  of  that  old  hag  Le- 
gitimacy (whom  hardly  the  houris  of  Paradise  could  rouse  from 
jus  apathy)  making  common  cause  with  Calabrian  banditti  and 
hunting  down  the  Guavas  of  Buenos  Ayres  on  the  plea  of  driving 
a  thriving  trade  in  philanthropy — I  would  not  believe  a  word  that 
she  said,  though  she  had  blown  a  blast  as  loud  as  Orlando's  born 
at  the  pass  of  lloncesvalles,  calling  on  Europe  to  rise  in  behalf  of 
Spanish  patriotism,  liberty,  and  independence;  or  that  the  popular 
cause  was  any  thing  m  ire  than  a  stalking-horse  made  use  of  to 
destroy  the  popular  cause,  either  then  when  men  could  only  judge 
from  the  past,  or  now  that  it  is  proved  by  the  sequel. 

The  Spanish  insurgents  were  al  first  treated  as  rebels,  which 
very  properly  gave  rise  to  reprisals;  and  this  sore  cured  itself. 
The  troops  also  enforced  military  law  against  the  peasants  who 
took  up  arms,  a  practice  for  which  a  precedent  is  said  to  have 
been  found  in  lluonaparte*s  suppression  of  the  revolt  of  Pavia,  as 
if  that  precedent  was  itself  quite  new  to  the  principles  and  usages 
of  regular  warfare.  The  peasants  in  their  turn  retaliated,  and 
''  1!  upon  th"  wounded,  the  sick,  and  the  stragglers  of  the  French 
sdav,  without  mercv.  In  the  temper  and  circumstances  of  the 
tiir.e,  it  is  quite  as  lilo  Iv  that  they  did  not  wait  for  any  such  prov- 
•;..'ti<  n  to  fall  upon  their  enemies  when  they  had  them  in  t loo i 
\wer  In  this  manilestaiion  of  the  national  spirit  the  lowest 
;  ~es  took  the  lead,  as  in  other  ^reat  public  commotions.  Wo- 
».  -'.,,  priests,  all  classes  j  pined   in   the  quanvl,  for  it  touched  all 


AFFAIRS   OF  SPAIN.  419 

classes.  The  excesses  to  which  it  led,  the  grotesqueness  of  ap- 
pearance it  assumed  are  not  here  ascribed  (nor  ought  they  to  be 
so)  to  the  madness  or  folly  of  the  people,  but  to  natural  feeling 
and  strong  aggravation.  Blood  was  also  shed.  At  Valencia,  a 
priest  named  Calvo  incited  the  rabble  to  massacre  upwards  of 
two  hundred  French  residing  in  that  city,  on  no  other  ground  than 
their  being  French.  The  Governor  of  Cadiz,  Solano,  falling  un- 
der popular  suspicion,  was  immediately  put  to  death,  and  many 
such  instances  occurred.  The  Juntas  called  on  the  rich  for  pa- 
triotic contributions  ;  on  the  priests  to  send  the  church-plate  to  the 
mint ;  on  the  poor  to  serve  in  the  ranks  or  work  on  the  fortifica- 
tions. Mr.  Southey's  pen  in  tracing  these  events  with  the  spirit 
and  fidelity  peculiar  to  him,  may  be  said  to  run  on  in  a  well- 
known  track  ;  and  almost  to  parody  an  exploded  original.  The 
subject  seems  to  inspire  him  with  a  sparkling  felicity,  and  "  red- 
olent of  joy  and  youth,  to  breathe  a  second  spring."  There  is  in 
the  style  a  freshness  and  a  fervor  of  feeling  as  in  his  earlier  pro- 
ductions, which  he  never  fails  to  temper  with  an  admirable  de- 
corum and  even  sanctity  of  sentiment.  There  are  only  two  stri- 
king features  of  distinction  in  the  pictures  of  the  two  Revolution.- 
— the  want  of  a  monk  urging  it  on  with  a  crucifix  in  the  first,  ana 
of  a  king  to  be  cashiered  in  the  last !  No  doubt  the  difference  is 
a  very  material  one.  While  these  events  were  passing  in  Spain, 
Sir  Arthur  Wellesley,  who  had  done  much  to  extend  the  British 
empire  in  India,  and  had  recently  distinguished  himself  by  his 
active  share  in  violating  the  neutrality  of  Denmark,  landed  with 
an  army  at  Lisbon  to  assert  the  independence  of  Portugal.  lie 
gained  the  battle  of  Vimeira  over  Junot  on  the  21st  of  August, 
1808,  which  however  was  rendered  in  a  great  measure  abortive 
by  the  indecision  and  changes  among  the  British  commanders, 
three  of  them  actually  succeeding  each  other  in  one  day-  and  the 
affair  ended  in  what  at  the  time  was  considered  as  the  disgracefu. 
Convention  of  Cintra.  Probably  the  actual  advantages  we  had 
gained  might  be  overrated  in  the  uneasy  enthusiasm  of  the  mo- 
ment, as  they  were  the  first  we  had  gained  ;  and  for  any  thing 
we  knew  at  the  time,  might  be  the  last.  So  near  the  brink  of 
the  precipice  had  we  come  in  the  desperate  attempt  to  push  others 
over  ! 


420  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


It  was  in  t7,e  interval  between  his  return  to  Paris  and  his  march 
into  Spain  at  the  end  of  the  year  1808,  that  Napoleon  proceeded 
to  Erfurt  to  renew  his  intimacy  and  strengthen  the  connection 
he  had  formed  with  the  Emperor  Alexander  in  the  preceding  au 
tumn.  It  is  needless  to  speak  of  the  long  acclamations  and  fes- 
tive rejoicings  which  attended  Buonaparte  the  whole  way  from 
St.  Cloud  to  Erfurt,  where  he  arrived  the  27th  of  September 
early  in  the  morning.  The  Emperor  Alexander  left  Petersburg 
on  the  14th,  and  on  the  18th  had  an  interview  with  the  King 
and  Queen  of  Prussia  who  came  to  Kdnigsberg  to  meet  him. 
He  was  received  at  Bromberg  by  the  Duke  of  Montebello, 
who  had  been  sent  forward  for  that  purpose;  and  where  the 
division  of  Xansonty  paid  him  military  honors.  Alexander  said. 
"he  was  pleased  to  find  himself  among  so  many  brave  men  and 
such  fine  soldiers."  lie  arrived  at  Weimar  on  the  2Gth,  accom- 
panied by  .Marshal  Lannes  and  escorted  by  the  troops  of  Marshal 
Soult,  having  passed  through  Leipsic  and  Frankfort-on-the-Oder. 
Napoleon  on  his  arrival  at  Erfurt  was  welcomed  with  the  most 
livelv  congratulations  of  the  people.  The  King  of  Saxony  was 
already  there  to  meet  him.  After  giving  an  audience  to  the  Re- 
gency and  the  municipality  of  Erfurt,  the  Emperor  mounted  on 
horseback  ;  and  having  returned  the  visit  of  the  King  of  Saxony, 
rode  out  of  the  city  by  the  gate  of  Weimar.  At  a  short  distance 
he  found  the  grenadiers  of  the  guard,  the  seventeenth  regiment  of 
infantry,  the  first  of  the  hussars,  and  the  sixth  of  the  cuirassiers 
drawn  up  in  order  of  battle  :  after  passing  along  the  ranks,  he  or- 
dered the  cavalry  forward  on  the  road  to  \\  einiar,  where  presently 
after  (about  a  league  and  a  half  from  the  city)  he  met  the  Em- 
peror Alexander.  As  soon  as  this  prince  saw  Napoleon  ho  got 
out  of  his  carriage,  and  the  Emperor  alighted  from  his  horse. 
The  two  sovereigns  then  embraced  with  the  greatest  cordiality. 
Thev  then  got  on  horseback  as  well  as  the  Archduke  Constan- 
tino, and  galloped  along  in  front  of  the  troops,  who  presented 
arm-.  The  drums  beat  the  charge.  Numerous  salvos  of  artillery 
mingled  with  the  sound  of  bells  and  with  the  shouts  of  a  vast  con- 
course of  spectators  whom  so  extraordinary  an  event  had  drawn 
together  from  all  quarters.  During  the  whole  of  the  time  that 
the  interview  at  Erfurt  lasted,   Alexande  '  wore  the  Grand  Cross 


AFFAIRS   OF   SPAIN.  421 

of  the  Legion  of  Honor,  and  Napoleon  that  of  St.  Andrew  of 
Russia.  The  latter  being  at  home,  constantly  gave  the  right 
hand  to  the  Emperor  Alexander.  On  the  first  day  the  two  Em- 
perors proceeded  to  the  Russian  palace  and  remained  together  an 
hour.  At  half  after  three  the  Emperor  Alexander  went  to  re- 
turn Napoleon's  visit,  who  descended  to  the  bottom  of  the  stair- 
case to  receive  him  ;  and  when  Alexander  withdrew,  he  accom- 
panied him  to  the  entrance-door  of  the  hall  of  the  Guards.  The 
sentinels  who  lined  the  way,  presented  arms,  and  the  drums  beat 
the  charge.  At  six  o'clock,  the  Emperor  of  Russia  came  to  dine 
with  Napoleon.  He  did  so  on  all  the  following  clays.  The  pre- 
cedence among  the  other  sovereigns  was  determined  by  the  order 
of  their  adhesion  to  the  Confederation  of  the  Rhine.  The  King 
of  Saxony  and  the  Archduke  Constantine  were  present  the  first 
day.  At  nine  o'clock  the  Emperor  conducted  his  guest  back  to 
his  palace,  where  they  remained  together  tete-a-tete  for  an  hour 
and  a  half.  The  Emperor  Alexander  attended  the  Emperor  Na- 
poleon to  the  top  of  the  stair-case.  The  city  was  illuminated. 
The  Prince  of  Weimar,  and  of  Reuss,  and  the  Princess  of  Tour 
and  Taxis  arrived  in  the  evening. 

The  same  routine  was  repeated  almost  every  day  with  little 
variation.  The  two  Emperors  breakfasted  alone,  called  on  each 
other  in  the  course  of  the  morning,  and  were  together  all  the  rest 
of  the  day,  either  in  public  or  by  themselves.  Napoleon  had 
been  desirous  to  give  the  Emperor  of  Russia  an  opportunity  of  en- 
joying the  representation  of  the  well-known  chef-d'veuvres  of  the 
French  stage,  and  for  this  purpose  had  brought  with  him  the 
principal  performers  of  the  Theatre  Francais — Talma.  St.  Prix 
Damas,  Lafond,  Despres,  Lacave,  Varennes,  with  Madame  Rau 
court,  Duchesnois,  Bourgoing,  Rose  Dupuis,  Gros,  and  Patrat. 
The  first  representation  given  was  that  of  Cinna  :  the  second  was 
the  tragedy  of  Andromache.  The  Emperor  of  Russia  and  the 
other  illustrious  strangers  who  were  present  seemed  t  >  relish  more 
and  mere  the  master-pieces  of  the  French  drama,  and  to  be  par- 
ticularly delighted  with  the  admirable  acting  of  Talma.  At  the 
representation  of  Cinna,  the  box  of  the  two  Emperors  was  in  the 
centre  of  the  first  tier  facing  the  stage.  Napoleon  thought  he 
rerecived  at  this  distance  the  Emperor  Alexander  did   not   hear 

35 


422  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

sufficiently  well,  on  account  of  a  defect  in  that  organ.  Ho  in 
consequence  gave  orders  to  Count  Remusat,  his  chamberlain,  to 
have  a  platform  raised  on  the  site  of  the  orchestra,  with  two 
elbow-chairs  for  the  two  Emperors  and  seats  to  the  right  and  left 
for  the  King  of  Saxony  and  the  other  sovereigns.  They  were 
thus  placed  in  view  of  the  whole  theatre.  On  the  evening  of  the 
performance  of  CEdipus,  the  two  courts  were  assembled  as  usual 
In  the  first  scene  of  the  play,  Philoctetes  addresses  Dirnas,  his 
friend  and  counsellor  : — 

'•  L'amitie  d"un  grand  liomme  est  un  bienfait  des  Dieux."  * 

At  this  line,  the  Emperor  Alexander  turning  towards  Napoleon 
gave  him  his  hand  in  a  very  graceful  manner,  as  much  as  to  sav, 
that  he  considered  his  friendship  in  that  light.  This  was  the  ap- 
plication made  by  all  those  present.  Napoleon  bowed,  but  with 
the  air  of  one  who  declined  so  embarrassing  a  compliment.  M.  de 
Talleyrand  did  not  fail  to  be  at  the  Emperor's  levee  that  evening 
to  know  precisely  what  had  passed.  On  another  occasion,  as  he 
was  about  to  enter  the  dining-room,  the  Emperor  of  Russia  who 
was  going  to  lay  aside  his  sword,  found  he  had  forgotten  it.  Na- 
poleon approached,  and  begged  him  to  accept  of  his.  Alexander 
took  it  eagerly,  saying.  '•  1  accept  it  as  a  mark  of  your  friendship. 
Your  Majesty  is  well  assured  that  I  shall  never  draw  it  against 
you': — a  protestation  which  would  admit  of  an  opposite  construction. 
On  the  6th  of  October,  the  visitors  at  Erfurt  accepted  an  invi- 
tation from  the  reigning  Duke  of  Weimar  to  pass  a  dav  or  two 
with  him.  On  the  way  a  hunting  pavilion  had  been  erected  in 
the  forest  of  Ettersburg,  where  the  Emperor  Alexander,  who  was 
not  fond  of  the  pleasures  of  the  chase  from  the  shortness  of  his 
bight,  brought  down  (as  his  coi/p  d'essai)  a  fine  stay  that  passed 
within  eight  paces  of  him.  At  night,  the  Death  of  Cccsar  was 
performed  bv  the  Erench  actors  at  the  theatre  of  Weimar;  and 
aft i  r  the  play  there  was  a  ball,  in  which  Alexander  danced  or 
rather  walked  a  minuet  with  the  Queen  of  Westphalia,  the 
•  i  ■  stra  plaving  a  Polish  march.  During  the  ball,  Buonaparte 
had  a  long  conversation  with  two  celebrated  Germans,  Wieland 
and  Goethe,  the   author  of  Wertcr.      \\  hile    here,  the    Emperor 

*  ;;Tiie  friendship  of  a  great  man  is  a  benefit  from  the  Gods/' 


AFFAIRS   OF   SPAIN.  423 


showed  the  most  marked  attention  to  the  Duchess  of  Weimar,  who 
after  the  battle  of  Jena  had  saved  Weimar  from  being  given  up 
to  the  pillage  of  the  French  soldiers  who  had  entered  it  at  the 
point  of  the  bayonet,  by  the  noble  appeal  she  made  to  the  gener- 
osity of  the  victor.  The  next  day,  the  Emperors  went  ovei  the 
field  of  the  battle  of  Jena.  In  a  tent  erected  on  the  spot  where 
he  had  bivouacked  on  the  night  before  that  celebrated  battle 
Napoleon  received  a  deputation  of  the  city  and  university  of 
Jena  ;  and  after  numberless  inquiries  and  details  on  the  subject, 
distributed  300,000  francs  to  repair  the  damages  done  by  fire  and 
other  consequences  of  the  long  abode  of  his  military  hospitals  in 
that  city. 

The  party  returned  to  Erfurt  to  dinner  about  five  o'clock. 
This  evening  there  was  no  play,  as  the  actors  had  not  had  time 
to  get  back  ;  for  which  reason  the  company  sat  longer  than  usual 
at  dinner.  A  question  was  started  respecting  the  Golden  Bull 
which,  before  the  establishment  of  the  Confederation  of  the  Rhine, 
had  served  as  a  basis  to  regulate  the  election  of  the  Emperors  of 
Germany,  the  number  and  quality  of  the  Electors,  &c.  The 
Prince-Primate  went  into  some  particulars  concerning  this  Golden 
Bull,  which  he  said  had  been  promulgated  in  1409.  The  Em- 
peror observed  that  the  date  which  he  assigned  to  the  Bull  was  not 
exact,  and  that  it  was  proclaimed  in  1330,  under  the  reign  of  the 
Emperor  Charles  IV.  "  That  is  true,  Sire,"  replied  the  Prince- 
Primate,  "  I  was  mistaken  ;  but  how  does  it  happen  that  your 
Majesty  is  so  well  acquainted  with  these  things  V  "  When  I 
was  a  simple  lieutenant  in  the  second  artillery,"  said  Napoleon — 
at  this  introduction  there  was  on  the  part  of  the  august  guests  a 
marked  expression  of  surprise.  He  resumed  with  a  smile — 
"  When  I  had  the  honor  to  be  a  simple  lieutenant  in  the  second 
company  of  artillery,  I  remained  three  years  in  garrison  at 
Valence.  I  was  not  fond  of  society  and  lived  very  retired.  By 
a  lucky  chance  I  happened  to  lodge  at  a  bookseller's,  a  well 
informed  man  and  very  obliging— I  read  throng!)  his  library  ovei 
and  over  during  the  three  years  I  was  kept  in  garrison  there, 
and  have  forgot  nothing,  even  of  matters  which  had  nothing  to  do 
with  my  profession.  Besides,  nature  has  given  me  a  particular 
lecollection  of  figures.      1  am  often  able,  in  discussions  with  my 


424  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 


Ministers,  to  quote  to  them  the  details  and  numerical  amount  of 
their  accounts  of  the  longest  standing." — There  was  a  just  and 
well-placed  pride  in  thus  speaking  of  himself  in  the  presence  of 
all  Europe  as  it  were  assembled  at  a  banquet  of  kings  !  After  a 
number  of  magnificent  presents  and  honors  lavished  on  all  sides, 
the  two  Emperors  took  leave  of  each  other  on  the  14th  of  Octo- 
ber, Alexander  proceeding  to  St.  Petersburg,  and  Napoleon  re- 
turning to  Paris,  where  he  arrived  on  the  18th  of  the  month. 
An  account  of  Buonaparte's  conversation  with  YVieland  is  extant, 
given  by  Wieland  himself;  and  is  in  every  respect  too  interest- 
ing and  characteristic  not  to  be  inserted  here. 

'•  I  had  been  hardly  a  few  minutes  in  the  room,"  says  Y\  ie- 
land,  "when  Napoleon  crossed  it  to  come  to  us.  I  was  presented 
by  the  Duchess  of  Weimar  with  the  usual  ceremonies  :  he  then 
paid  me  some  compliments  in  an  affable  tone,  and  looking  sted- 
fastly  at  me.  Few  men  have  appeared  to  me  to  possess  in  the 
same  degree  the  art  of  reading,  at  the  first  glance,  the  thoughts 
of  other  men.  He  saw  in  an  instant  that  notwithstanding  my 
celebrity  I  was  simple  in  my  manners  and  void  of  pretension  ; 
and  as  he  seemed  desirous  of  making  a  favorable  impression  on 
me,  he  assumed  the  tone  most  likelv  to  attain  his  end.  1  have 
never  beheld  any  one  more  calm,  more  simple,  more  mild,  or  less 
ostentatious  in  appearance  :  nothing  about  him  indicated  the 
feeling  of  power  in  a  great  monarch  :  he  sp  ike  to  me  as  an  old 
acquaintance  would  speak  to  an  equal  ;  and  what  was  more  ex- 
traordinary on  his  part,  he  conversed  with  me  exclusively  for  an 
hour  and  a  half,  to  the  great  surprise  of  the  whole  assembly.  At 
length,  towards  midnight,  1  b-o;;m  to  feel  that  it  was  improper  to 
detain  him  so  long,  and  I  took  the  liberty  to  demand  permission 
to  retire  :   '  ( i  >  then.'  said  he  in  a  fri   ndl\   I  'in  .  '  g    id  ni^ht  !' 

•■  The  f,lh  wing  are  the  most  remarkable  features  in  our  con- 
versation. The  trauedy  which  had  just  been  represented*  having 
le  !  us  t )  sp  ak  of  Julius  C;c.-ar,  Xapoh  on  said  that  he  was  one 
of  the  greatest  men  in  history  :  and  that  lie  would  have  been  the 
greatest  of  all,  but  for  the  filly  which  he  committed.  I  was 
l:  iiu£  to  a-k  him  to  what  fault  he  meant  to  allude,  when  seeming 
to  read  my  question  in  my  eyes,  he  continued  :  '  Ctesar  knew  the 
♦  La  lion  dc  Ctcsar. 


AFFAIRS   OF   SPAIN.  425 

men  that  wanted  to  get  rid  of  him  ;  he  ought  to  have  got  rid  of 
them  first.'  If  Napoleon  could  have  seen  what  was  then  passing 
through  my  mind,  he  would  have  read  the  conviction  that  no  one 
would  ever  accuse  him  of  the  like  folly.* 

"  The  Emperor  paused  an  instant,  pronounced  a  few  words  in 
distinctly,  and  went  on.  From  Ctesar  the  conversation  naturally 
turned  to  the  Romans  :  he  warmly  eulogized  their  military  and 
political  system.  The  Greeks,  on  the  contrary,  did  not  seem  to 
share  his  esteem.  '  The  eternal  squabbles  of  their  petty  repub- 
lics,' he  said,  '  were  not  calculated  to  give  birth  to  any  thing 
grand  :  whereas  the  Romans  were  always  occupied  with  great 
things,  and  it  was  owing  to  this  they  raised  up  the  Colossus  which 
bestrode  the  world.'  I  pleaded  in  favor  of  the  arts  and  literature 
of  the  Greeks  :  he  treated  them  with  disdain,  and  said  that  they 
only  made  use  of  them  to  foment  their  dissensions.  He  prefer- 
red Ossian  to  Homer.  He  was  fond  only  of  serious  poetry,  the 
pathetic  and  vigorous  writers,  and  above  all,  the  tragic  poets. 
lie  spoke  of  Ariosto  in  the  same  terms  as  the  Cardinal  Hippo- 
lito  of  Este  ;  ignorant  no  doubt  that  it  was  giving  me  a  box  on  the 
ear.  lie  appeared  to  have  no  relish  for  any  thing  gav  ;  and  in 
spite  of  the  prepossessing  amenity  of  his  manners,  an  observation 
struck  me  often,  lie  seemed  to  be  of  bronze.  Nevertheless,  the 
Emperor  had  put  me  so  much  at  my  ease,  that  I  ventured  to  ask 
him  how  it  was  that  the  public  worship  which  he  had  restored  in 
France  was  not  more  philosophical  and  in  harmony  with  the  spi- 
rit of  the  times  ?  '  My  dear  Wieland,'  he  replied,  '  religion  is 
not  meant  for  philosophers  :  they  have  no  faith  either  in  me  01 
my  priests  :  as  to  those  who  do  believe,  it  would  be  difficult  to 
give  them  or  to  leave  them  too  much  of  the  marvellous.  If  1  had 
to  frame  a  religion  for  philosophers,  il  would  be  just  the  reverse 
of  that  of  the  credulous  part  of  mankind.'  "j" 

*  This  prediction  on  the  part  of  Wieland  was.  however,  premature.  ITc 
was  afterwards  in  a  similar  situation  where  others  wanted  to  get  rid  of 
him,  and  he  neglected  to  strike  the  first  blow  as  he  ought. 

i  M  tiller,  the  celebrated  Swiss  historian,  has  left  a  still  more  ample  tes- 
timony to  Buonaparte's  character.  The  following  is  taken  from  Midler's 
Posthumous  "Works : — 

■:  On  the  19th  May.  1S07,  I  was  informed  by  the  Minister  Secretary  of 
State.   Maret.  that  at  seven  o'clock  in  tl  e  evening  of  the  following  day  ' 


-426  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 

Scarcely  had  Buonaparte  returned  to  Paris  before  he  had  to  set 
out  again  for  Spain.  The  campaign  this  time  was  little  mere 
than  a  military  promenade  ;  there  was  no  great  battle  fought, 
nor  any  extraordinary  manoeuvre  executed.      lie  iiad  not  in  fact 

must  wait  on  the  Emperor  Napoleon.     I  waited  accordingly  on  this  Min- 
ister at  the  appoi  ited  hour,  and  was  presented.    The  Emperor  sit  on  a  sofa: 

a  few  persons  whom  I  did  not  know  stood  at  some  distance  in  the  apart- 
ment. The  Emperor  began  to  speak  of  the  History  of  Switzerland  ;  told 
me  that  I  ought  to  complete  it  :  that  even  the  more  recent  times  had  their 
interest.  He  came  to  the  work  of  mediation,  discovered  a  very  good  will, 
if  we  do  not  meddle  with  any  thing  foreign  and  remain  quietly  in  the  inte- 
rior. He  proceeded  from  the  Swiss  to  the  old  Greek  Constitutions  and  His- 
tory, to  the  Theory  of  Constitutions,  to  the  complete  diversity  of  those  of 
Asia  'and  the  causes  of  this  diversity  in  the  climate,  polygamy.  &.C.).  the 
opposite  characters  of  the  Arabian  (which  the  Emperor  highly  extolled). 
and  the  Tartar  Races  (which  led  to  the  irruptions  that  all  civilization  had 
always  to  dread  from  that  quarter,  and  the  necessity  of  a  bulwark)  the  pe- 
culiar value  of  European  culture  (never  greater  freedom,  security  of  prop 
erty.  humanity,  and  better  laws  in  general,  than  since  the  loth  century)  . 
then  how  every  thing  was  linked  together,  and  in  the  inscrutable  guidance 
of  an  invisible  h  aid  :  and  how  lie  himself  had  become  great  through  his  en- 
emies: the  great  confederation  of  nations,  the  idea  of  which  Henry  IV. 
never  had:  the  foundation  of  all  religion,  and  its  necessity  ;  that  man  could 
not  well  bear  completely  clear  truth,  and  required  to  be  kept  in  order;  tho 
possibility,  however,  of  a  more  happy  condition,  if  the  numerous  feuds 
ceased,  which  were  occasioned  by  too  complicated  constitutions  (such  as  the 
German),  and  the  intolerable  burden  suffered  by  States  from  excessive  ar- 
mies. A  great  deal  more  besides  was  said,  and  indeed  we  spoke  of  almost 
evory  country  and  nation.  The  Emperor  spoke  at  first  in  his  usual  man- 
ner: but  the  nil  -re  in  teres  ing  our  c  nversation  became,  he  spoke  in  a  lower 
and  1  ■'■  er  '  >n<\  so  that  I  was  obliged  to  bend  my,elf  quite  down  to  his  face; 
and  no  man  can  have  unders'ood  what  he  said  (and  therefore  many  things 
1  will  t'.ot  re] .eat  . — I  oppose!  !iim  occasi  nally.  and  ho  rut  ere  1  into  discus- 
si  n.  Qjiile  inn  r:i  d!y  I  1  tr  !y.  as  bef  re  God.  1  must  say.  that  the  va- 
riety of  his  kn  wl  'dire,  the  aeutene.-s  of  hi,  observation,  the  s  didity  of  his 
understanding  (not  d  iz/lii  z  wit  .  Ids  grand  and  comprehensive  views,  fill  ■  i 
i  e  wi:  h  .-'  hi-hment.  and  his  m  inner  of  ,pe  iking  to  me.  wit  h  1  ive  f  v  him 
\  i  ui  '•■  ■  f  Mar.-hals.  and  also  the  Duke  of  Ueiievento.  had  entered  in  the 
oi'-mtin.e  :  he  did  not  break  off.  After  five  quarters,  or  an  hour  .and  a 
ill  ,ved  the  i  m-ert  to  begin:  and  I  know  not.  whether  accidentally 
■  r  from  go-  lne-s.  he  desired  pieces,  wh:  h.  one  of  them  cpeeially.  had 
i  .   e  to  pastoral   life  and   the   Swiss     it' ■■.,.<  >:■  ;   I'tv    o     After  this  he 

*  ivsed  iu  a  friendly  manner  and  left  the  room  — >'.i>^:  the  audience  with 


AFFAIRS    OF   SPAIN.  427 

an  equal  enemy  to  contend  with.  The  only  striking  feature  of 
the  period  was  the  dilatory  advance  and  disastrous  retreat  of  Sir 
John  Moore  and  the  English  under  his  command.  NaprJeon  left 
Paris  on  the  29th  of  October,  and  reached  Bayonne  on  the  3rd 
of  November.  On  the  7th  he  was  at  Vittoria,  where  his  bro- 
ther Joseph  had  remained,  and  where  he  found  himself  in  the 
midst  of  the  army  under  Marshal  Bessieres.  The  troops  now 
moved  forward  on  Burgos,  which  place  was  taken  by  assault, 
and  treated  with  severity,  the  inhabitants  firing  from  their  win- 
dows on  the  French  troops  as  they  entered.  At  the  same  time 
Marshal  Victor  marched  on  the  Spanish  forces  collected  under 
General  Blake  at  Espinosa,  attacked  and  routed  them,  and  drove 
them  back  on  Reynosa.  This  disaster  included  the  defeat  of  the 
greater  part  of  the  troops  that  had  escaped  with  the  Marquis  Ro- 
mana  from  the  isle  of  Furen  in  the  Baltic,  and  who,  being  inju- 
diciously brought  into  action  by  single  battalions,  perished  inglo- 
riously  among  the  cliffs  at  Espinosa.  Blake  commanded  the 
Spanish  army  in  the  north  of  Spain  ;  Castanos  in  the  centre  near 
Madrid  ;  Palafox  in  the  east  towards  the  Pyrenees.  Nothing  can 
exceed  the  picture  which  is  given  of  the  deplorable  state  of  these 
armies  at  the  period  in  question.  They  were  without  discipline, 
concert,  stores,  or  ammunition.  The  soldiers  were  in  a  state  of 
open  rebellion  against  their  leaders,  and  slew  them  on  the  slightest 
suspicion  or  disgust :  the  generals  were  at  variance  alike  with  one 
another  and  with  the  Supreme  Junta.  The  latter  sent  commis- 
sioners to  the  army  who  acted  as  spies  and  umpires  over  the  Gen- 
erals, and  urged  them  forward  on  sure  destruction,  at  their  peril. 
They  seemed  to  have  nothing  to  sustain  their  courage  but  their 
good  opinion  of  themselves  and  their  hatred  of  the  French,  with 
the  love  of  their  king  and  country — though  the  last  could  scarcely 
be  affirmed,  for  their   patriotism   was  often  of  so  instinctive  and 

Frederick  (17S2),  I  never  had  a  conversation  on  such  a  variety  of  subjects, 
at  least  with  any  prince  :  if  I  can  judge  correctly  from  recollection.  I  must 
give  the  Emperor  the  preference  in  point  of  solidity  and  comprehension: 
Frederick  was  somewhat  Voltairian.  Besides,  there  is  in  his  tone  much 
firmness  and  vigor,  but  in  his  mouth  something  as  attractive  and  fascina- 
ting as  in  Frederick.  It  was  one  of  the  most  remarkable  days  of  my  life 
By  his  genius  and  his  disinterested  goodness  he  has  also  conquered  me." 


428  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEOX. 


merely  animal  a  nature  that  they  fought  very  well  in  defence  ol 

a  particular  spot,  but  could  not  understand  the  necessity  of  a 
combined  system  of  national  defence  or  of  securing  the  frontiers 
as  an  inlet  to  the  whole  kingdom.  Pa.afox  having  effected  a 
junction  with  Castanos  is  said  to  have  hurried  him  by  opprobri- 
ous  insinuations  into  a  general  action  with  the  French  troops  sta- 
tioned along  the  Ebro.  It  took  place  at  Tudela  on  the  22d  of 
.November,  with  all  the  results  which  Castanos  had  foretold,  and 
left  that  General  no  resource  but  to  escape  with  the  broken  relics 
of  his  army  to  Calatayud,  while  Palafox  retreated  to  Saragossa  to 
await  a  second  siege  and  reap  thankless  renown.  The  road  now 
lay  open  to  .Madrid  except  for  the  pass  of  Sommo-Sierra,  about 
ten  miles  from  the  city,  and  which  was  hitherto  regarded  as  im- 
pregnable. Buonaparte  might  indeed  have  gone  round  by  Valla- 
dolid,  on  which  side  no  such  formidable  obstacle  intervened.  But 
as  the  Spaniards  were  fond  of  miracles,  he  was  willing  to  gra- 
tify them  ;  and  to  their  utter  astonishment,  took  the  pass  of 
Sommo-Sierra  by  a  single  charge  of  Polish  lancers.  After  this, 
not  a  single  Spaniard  was  to  be  seen  all  the  way  to  Madrid, 
where  the  army  arrived  on  the  1st  of  December.  Madrid  is> 
not  fortified  ;  but  some  persons  thought  of  defending  it  piece- 
meal and  man  to  man.  I  have  no  objection  that  all  the  cap- 
itals in  the  world  should  be  defended  in  this  manner  (if  it  is  so  to 
be  understood)  but  feel  no  particular  regret  that  Madrid  was  not 
more  than  an}-  other,  as  1  have  no  particular  fancv  cither  for 
auto-da-fes  or  bull-fights.  Some  of  the  streets  were  however  un- 
paved  for  this  purpose  ;  and  the  looks  of  the  citizens  spoke  dag- 
gers. It  ended  in  nothing,  as  the  constituted  authorities  with  Don 
Thomas  Mori  a  at  their  head  were  not  disposed  to  second  the  good 
citizens  of  Madrid,  which  capitulated  in  the  morning  oi'  the  4th 
of  December,  after  a  number  of  parleys.  The  only  attempt  at 
an  irregular  defence  was  made  in  the  new  barracks  belonging  to 
the  Guards.  The  common  people  and  soldiers  had  collected  here 
to  the  amount  of  several  thousands,  determined  to  make  a  last 
stand  :  a  redoubt  situated  in  the  middle  of  the  inner  court  was 
garnished  with  cannon  and  vomited  out  death  on  all  who  ap 
preached.  It  was  not  till  after  the  lapse  of  a  couple  of  hours 
tnat  the  Corregidor  and  Alcaldes  could   get  near  enough  to  sum 


AFFAIRS   OF   SPAIN.  49! 

mon  them  to  lay  down  their  arms  in  consequence  of  the  capitu- 
lation having  been  signed.  In  their  despair,  the  combatants  broke 
their  muskets,  spiked  the  guns,  and  rushed  out  of  the  place  fran- 
tic with  rage  and  disappointment.  The  gate  of  Fuencarral  oppo- 
site the  quarter  where  Buonaparte  was  chiefly  stationed,  contin- 
ued to  fire  after  all  the  other  points  of  defence  had  done  firing. 
The  commander  of  this  post  was  found  to  be  a  M.  St.  Simon,  a 
French  emigrant,  who  had  been  in  the  Spanish  service  ever  since 
the  Revolution.  He  was  about  to  be  brought  before  a  military 
commission  and  would  probably  have  suffered  for  his  over-forward 
zeal  in  the  cause  of  Spanish  patriotism,  if  his  daughter  had  not 
been  advised  to  present  herself  before  the  Emperor,  and  intercede 
for  her  father's  life.  This  sort  of  appeal  he  hardly  ever  was  known 
to  resist.  Before  quitting  .Madrid,  Buonaparte  paid  a  visit  privately 
to  the  royal  palaces,  where  he  found  his  brother  Joseph's  picture 
remaining  where  it  was.  and  a  curious  collection  of  clocks  and 
watches  with  which  the  late  King  used  to  amuse  himself  for  hours. 
Sir  John  Moore  and  his  army  had  been  expected  in  Spain  to- 
wards the  end  of  August,  and  might  in  that  case  have  co-operated 
to  advantage  with  the  Spanish  troops  ;  but  indecision  and  a  want 
of  vigor  in  tin;  Administration  (which  was  not  prompt  in  the  use 
of  im  ans  from  having  hitherto  us<'d  them  in  vain)  produced  a  de- 
lav  which  amounted  to  a  virtual  abandonment  of  the  project. 
lie  himself  arrived  with  sixteen  thousand  men  at  Salamanca,  en- 
tering Spain  by  the  frontiers  of  Portugal,  and  had  ordered  Sir 
David  Baird  to  advance  from  Corunna  to  Astorga  with  ten  thou- 
sand more,  just  in  time  to  hear  of  the  defeat  and  dispersion  of  the 
Spanish  armies  under  Blake,  Castanos,  and  Palafox,  whom  he 
was  come  to  join  and  reinforce.  In  this  situation  he  was  greatly 
at  a  loss  how  to  act.  He  saw  the  danger  of  attempting  to  ad- 
vance ;  vet  the  expectations  entertained  of  him.  and  the  eager- 
n  \ss  of  the  British  public  to  second  a  cause  which  had  at  last 
br  (tight  something  like  a  feeling  of  liberty  and  a  spirit  of  inde- 
pendence to  holster  up  the  hypocritical  excuses  and  selfish  calcu- 
lations en  which  they  had  so  far  trafficked  in  war,  made  him  no- 
sirous  to  do  something.  He  consulted  Mr.  Frere,  the  British 
minister  and  a  sort  of  itinerant  camp-critic  and  writer  of  dis. 
patches  (of  the  Canning  school)  who  advised   him  to  proceed   by 


430  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

all  means  and  risk  every  thing  for  the  chance  of  succoring  Mad- 
rid. Mr.  Frere  was  a  wit,  a  courtier,  and  an  enthusiast  in  the 
cause  of  Spanish  liberty  ;  for  he  saw  with  what  a  different  eye 
courts  and  cabinets  must  regard  that  liberty  or  will  of  the  people 
which  consisted  in  their  determination  to  have  no  will  of  their 
own,  but  to  leave  all  power  in  the  hands  of  kings  and  priests, 
and  that  other  sort  of  liberty  which  France  had  tried  to  obtain, 
of  having  a  will  of  her  own  and  taking  some  of  the  supreme 
power  out  of  the  hands  of  those  that  held  it.  One  of  these  two 
kinds  of  patriotism  or  liberty,  which  was  both  courtly  and  popu- 
lar, was  the  finest  opening  and  handle  in  the  world  for  overturn 
ing  the  other  which  had  never  been  courtly  and  had  ceased  to  be 
popular.  Sir  John  Moore,  who  was  not  of  the  Canning  school, 
having  some  misgivings  of  the  cause  and  more  of  the  success,  de- 
clined this  challenge  of  the  British  Envoy.  lie  notwithstanding 
resolved  to  move  forward,  in  the  hope  of  aiding  the  scattered  re- 
mains of  Romana's  army  in  Biscay,  of  diverting  the  attention  of 
the  French  from  advancing  farther  south,  and  thinking  at  all 
events  to  keep  a  retreat  open  for  himself  through  Galicia.  This 
last  step  soon  became  necessary.  lie  had  gone  on  to  Mayorga, 
where,  on  the  20th  of  December,  he  finned  a  junction  with  Sir 
David  Baird ;  and  advancing  to  Sahagun,  a  smart  action  took 
place  between  the  15th  English  Hussars  and  a  body  of  French 
cavalry,  greatly  to  the  advantage  of  the  former.  The  troops  were 
in  the  highest  spirits  and  preparing  to  attack  Soult,  who  had  con- 
centrated his  forces  behind  the  Carrion,  when  news  was  brought 
that  this  general  had  been  strongly  reinforced  ;  that  Buonaparte 
had  set  out  on  the  'J"Jnd  from  Madrid  at  the  head  of  ten  thousand 
of  the  Guard  ;  and  that  the  French  armies,  who  had  boon  march- 
ing southward,  had  halted  and  taken  a  direction  to  the  northwest, 
as  if  to  inclose  and  destroy  the  British  army.  A  retreat  became 
inevitable,  with  every  disadvantage  of  such  a  retreat,  in  the  mid- 
dle of  winter,  through  bad  roads,  and  a  country  of  which  our 
officers  at  the  time  did  not  know  how  to  take  adwantae.  , 
lor  the  purposes  of  d  ■  i" •:  1  - •  •  or  of  furnishing  their  troops  with 
supplies.  The  gross  deficiency  of  our  commissariat-department 
at  that  ep  ich  has  been  ace  mm-  i  fir  fr  mi  our  insular  situation, 
which,  sereeniiiir  us  ;V  mi  the'  in  c    -  '"v  of  foreign  wars,  leaves  us 


AFFAIRS   OF   SPAIN.  43l 


ignorant  of  the  means  of  subsisting  large  armies  by  land,  and 
may  also  bring  into  question  our  right  to  engage  in  them,  since 
we  can  hardly  feel  properly  responsible  for  the  evils  which  we 
inflict  with  comparative  impunity  upon  others.  The  soldiers,  be- 
sides, not  relishing  this  retrograde  movement,  grew  mutinous,  got 
drunk,  and  committed  all  sorts  of  outrages  upon  the  inhabitants. 
Nothing  brought  them  to  reason  or  put  them  in  good  humor,  but 
the  prospect  of  meeting  with  the  enemy.  They  tffen  rallied  and 
fbughl  with  the  greatest  bravery  and  steadiness.  On  the  29th  of 
December  the  French,  who  had  pressed  upon  our  rear  at  Bene- 
vente  and  thrown  a  large  body  of  the  Imperial  cavalry  across  the 
Exla,  were  driven  back  and  defeated,  and  their  General  Lcfebvre 
Desnouettes  was  taken  prisoner.  At  Lugo  again  on  the  6th  of 
January,  they  declined  the  offer  of  a  similar  encounter  ;  and  in 
disembarking  at  Corunna  on  the  16th,  the  combat  which  Soult 
commenced  with  great  boldness  and  numbers,  proved  fatal  to 
many  of  the  assailants  and  to  the  English  general  (Sir  John 
Moore)  while  encouraging  his  soldiers  to  make  sure  of  the  vic- 
tory.  lie  was  buried  on  the  ramparts,  and  ':  left  alone  with  his 
glory" — such  as  it  was  ! 

Buonaparte  did  not  follow  the  retreating  army  further  than 
Astorga.  He  then  returned  to  Valladolid,  where  he  staid  some 
davs,  and  then  proceeded  in  great  haste  to  Paris,  his  return  being 
hastened  by  the  news  of  an  approaching  rupture  with  Austria. 
While  at  Valladolid  he  had  several  conferences  with  the  Abbe  de 
Pradt,  who  made  him  laugh  by  comparing  the  ingratitude  of  the 
Spaniards  for  the  benefits  he  wished  to  confer  upon  them  to  the 
behavior  of  Sganarelle's  wife  in  the  farce,  who  quarrels  with  a 
stranger  for  trying  to  prevent  her  husband  from  beating  her.  He 
also  suppressed  a  monastery  of  Dominicans  at  Valladolid,  where 
a  French  officer  had  been  assassinated  and  his  body  found  in  the 
vaults  of  the  eon  vent.  He  called  these  monks  before  him  to  the 
number  of  forty  ;  harangued  and  reviled  them  for  their  baseness; 
and  at  last  in  his  eagerness  got  alone  in  the  midst  of  them,  some 
of  them  in  their  humility  kneeling  to  kiss  the  hem  of  his  gar- 
ments. Had  there  been  one  true  monk  among  the  ijroup,  the 
scene  might  have  ended  differently — though  less  satisfactorily  to 
some  people  than  it  has  done ! 


«*2  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 


CHAPTER    XL  I. 

CAMPAIGN    IN    1S09. 

Napoleon  returned  to  Paris  on  the  23d  of  January,  1809. 
His  Prefect  of  the  Palace  (uiio.se  mule  had  suffered  an  accident 
in  fording  the  Exla)  followed  him  on  the  23th.  One  of  the  first 
persons  the  latter  met  on  going  to  the  Thuilleries  was  the  Count 
de  Montesquieu,  who  had  heen  appointed  Grand-Chamberlain  to 
the  Emperor  in  the  place  of  the  Prince  of  Benevento.  This  news 
surprised  M.  de  Bausset  the  more,  as  he  had  just  parted  with  M. 
Talleyrand,  who  had  come  to  pay  his  court,  and  on  whose  coun- 
tenance he  had  perceived  no  marks  of  the  change  nor  of  the  dis- 
agreement that  had  caused  it. 

In  the  course  of  the  preceding  year,  Austria,  seeing  the  exam- 
ple set  by  Spain  and  that  liberty  was  the  word,  grew  patriotic,  got 
tired  of  the  treaty  of  Presburg  (of  which  she  was  glad  enough  at 
the  time)  seized  and  opened  the  French  despatches  in  time  of 
pence,  raised  the  Lanclicrt.  made  an  appeal  to  her  subjects,  and 
hoped  to  recover  under  this  new  plea  of  popular  enthusiasm  and 
national  independence  the  successive  losses  she  had  sustained  in 
so  many  Coalitions  to  overturn  popular  rights  and  national  inde- 
pendence, and  bow  them  to  the  earth  under  the  yoke  of  feudal 
aristocracy  with  its  forty  quarterings.  The  scheme  failed  this 
fine  too.  England  of  course  was  at  hand  to  encourage  her  to 
venture  once  more  in  the  new  lottery  which  Legitimacy  had 
opened,  and  offered  as  usual  to  pay  the  expense.  The  distress 
and  poverty  arising  from  the  want  of  this  money  at  present  is 
attributed  to  the  excessive  and  unnatural  growth  of  the  popula- 
tion. We  are  too  poor  now  to  take  part  in  the  stru^o-le  of  Greece 
or  other  stat'-s  to  emancipate  themselves  from  a  despotic  and  hated 
yoke.  There  has  been  no  king's  head  struck  off  in  the  quarrel, 
and  it  is  not  to    be  expected    that  the  king's  coin  should  pay  foi 


CAMPAIGN   IN   1809.  433 

any  thing  else.  "  But  riches  fineless  were  as  poor  as  winter," 
without  thai  fillip  to  warm  the  icy  chill  of  patriotism  and  set  the 
sluggish  blood  in  motion. 

The  Archduke  Charles  was  appointed  generalissimo;  and 
early  in  the  month  of  April  published  the  Emperor's  orders  to 
march  into  Bavaria  and  treat  all  that  opposed  him  as  enemies. 
The  same  declaration  was  also  made  with  respect  to  Russia.  Ac- 
cordingly, the  Austrian  troops  entered  the  Bavarian  territory  on 
the  10th  and  11th  of  April,  though  Prince  Metternich  was  still 
at  Paris  without  demanding  his  passports  or  saying  a  word  on  the 
subject.  It  was  an  understood  case.  A  telegraphic  dispatch 
gave  the  first  notice  of  this  event.  Napoleon  set  out  for  Stras- 
burg  on  the  13th  and  arrived  there  on  the  16th  at  four  in  the 
morning  with  the  Empress  Josephine,  whom  lie  left  there.  He 
crossed  the.  Rhine  at  the  head  of  his  fine  troops,  and  marched 
with  the  utmost  speed  to  the  succor  of  Bavaria.  Numbers  were 
on  the  side  of  the  Austrians  (who  had  raised  a  larger  army  in 
this  case  than  they  had  ever  done  before)  but  Buonaparte  made 
up  for  this  inferiority  (as  was  his  custom)  by  the  celerity  and 
skill  of  his  movements.  He  had  with  him,  besides  his  own  troops, 
those  of  the  confederation  of  the  Rhine  (who  proved  faithful  to 
their  conqueror  and  ally)  and  also  drew  reinforcements  from  the 
garrisons  he  had  left  in  Prussia  and  in  the  North  of  Germany. 
The  Austrians  hud  six  corps  d'armee  of  thirty  thousand  each, 
which  constituted  their  force  under  the  Archduke  Charles  ;  one 
in  Galicia  under  the  Archduke  Ferdinand,  ready  to  oppose  the 
Russians,  should  they  be  disposed  to  advance  ;  and  two  under  the 
Archduke  John,  intended  to  operate  a  diversion  in  Italy,  by  the 
passes  of  Carinthia  and  Carmola — in  all  two  hundred  and  seventy 
thousand  men.  Buonaparte's  line  had  been  too  much  extended 
(considering  the  fewness  of  his  numbers)  from  north  to  south  ; 
and  a  gap  was  left  in  the  middle,  into  which  the  Austrians  (if 
they  had  thought  of  it  in  time)  might  have  pushed  large  masses, 
and  have  thus  cut  his  army  in  two.  Alarmed  at  the  possibility 
of  this,  he  hastened  to  place  himself  in  the  centre,  the  vulnerable- 
point  ;  and  turning  doubtful  hazards  and  even  over-sights  to  his 
advantage,  sent  precise  and  urgent  orders  to  Massena  to  advance 
by  a  lateral  movement  from  Augsburg  to  Pfaffenhofen,  and  to  Da. 

vol..  ii.  20  37 


434  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

voust  to  come  up  in  the  same  manner  from  Ratisbon  to  Neustadt. 
The  order  for  this  daring  operation  was  given  on  the  night  of  the 
17th  and  speed  and  vigilance  were  recommended.  Davoust  hao 
to  march  eight  leagues  and  Massena  twelve  or  thirteen  to  come 
up  to  the  appointed  place  of  rendezvous.  When  the  time  neces- 
sarv  for  executing  these  movements  had  elapsed,  Buonaparte  ai 
the  head  of  the  centre  of  his  forces  made  a  sudden  and  desperate 
assault  on  two  Austrian  divisions,  commanded  by  General  Mil 
ler  and  the  Archduke  Louis  ;  and  Davoust  coming  up  on  the 
right  flank  of  the  Austrians  in  the  middle  of  the  engagement, 
while  .Massena  made  his  appearance  almost  at  the  same  instant 
in  the  rear  of  the  Archduke  Louis,  broke  and  threw  their  whole 
line  into  the  utmost  disorder.  This  was  the  famous  manoeuvre  of 
Abensberg,  of  which  the  Emperor  sometimes  spoke  as  the  finest 
of  all  his  conceptions.  This  victory  gained  on  ihe  "20th  of  April 
exposed  the  defeated  army  to  further  misfortunes,  the  Emperor 
following  up  his  advantage,  and  attacking  the  fugitives  next  day 
at  Landshut,  where  they  lost  thirty  pieces  of  cannon  and  nine 
thousand  prisoners,  besides  ammunition  and  baggage. 

On  the  '22nd  the  Emperor  directed  his  whole  force,  meeting 
from  different  points,  against  the  principal  army  of  the  Archduke 
Charles  which  was  concentrated  at  Eckmuhl.  Tue  battle  was 
one  of  the  most  splendid  which  the  art  of  war  could  display.  A 
hundred  thousand  men  and  upwards  were  dispossessed  of  all  their 
positions  bv  the  combined  attacks  of  their  scientific  adversary,  the 
divisions  appearing  on  the  field,  each  in  its  due  place  and  order 
as  regularly  as  the  movements  of  the  various  pieces  on  a  chess- 
board. All  the  Austrian  wounded,  great  part  of  their  artillery, 
fifteen  stand  of  colors,  and  twenty  thousand  prisoners  remained 
in  the  power  of  the  French.  The  retn  at  was  attended  with  pro- 
portiouable  loss;  and  Austria,  again  baffled  in  the  hope  of  wreak- 
ing her  old  grudge  against  France,  was  once  more  reduced  to 
co-tend  for  her  existence,  which  had  been  so  often  lost  and  given 
back  to  her  to  have  the  same  unfair  use  made  of  it  again. 

On  tin'  subsequent  day.  the  Austrians  attempted  to  cover  the 
retreat  of  their  army  by  defending  Ilatisb  >n.  A  partial  breach  in 
the  walls  having  been  obstinately  defended  by  a  close  discharge 
of  musketry,  there  was  a  difficulty  in  finding  volunteers  to  renevr 


CAMPAIGN    IN    1S09.  433 

the  attack,  when  the  noble-minded  Lannes,  seizing  a  ladder  and 
rushing  forward  to  fix  himself  against  the  walls,  "I  will  show 
you,"  lie  exclaimed,  "  that  your  general  is  still  a  grenadier." 
The  example  prevailed  ;  the  wall  was  surmounted  ;  and  the 
combat  was  continued  in  the  streets  of  the  town.  Here  a  singu- 
lar circumstance  occurred.  A  body  of  French,  pressing  forward 
to  charge  a  body  of  Austrians  who  still  occupied  one  end  of  a 
burning  street,  were  interrupted  by  some  waggons  belonging  to 
the  enemy's  artillery  train.  "  They  are  barrels  of  powder,'' 
cried  the  Austrian  commander  to  the  French  :  "  if  the  flames 
leach  them,  both  sides  perish."  The  combat  ceased  ;  and  the 
two  parties  joined  in  averting  a  danger  which  must  have  been 
fatal  to  both,  and  finally  saved  the  ammunition  from  the  flames. 
At  length  the  Austrians  were  driven  out  of  Ratisbon,  leaving 
much  cannon,  baggage,  and  a  great  many  prisoners  in  the  hands 
of  their  enemies. 

In  the  middle  of  the  last  mctte,  Buonaparte  who  was  observing 
the  affair  at  some  distance  and  speaking  to  Duroc  at  the  time, 
was  struck  on  the  foot  by  a  spent  musket-ball,  which  occasioned 
a  severe  contusion.  i:  That  must  have  been  a  Tvroleso,"  said 
the  Emperor  coollv,  "  who  has  hit  me  from  such  a  distance  : 
those  fellows  fire  with  wonderful  precision."  Those  around  re- 
monstrated with  him  on  his  exposing  his  person  :  to  which  ho 
answered,  "  What  can  I  do  ?  I  must  needs  see  how  matters  go 
on."  The  soldiers  crowded  about  him.  alarmed  at  the  report  of 
his  wound  ;  but  he  would  not  allow  it  to  be  dressed,  so  eager  \vas 
he  to  get  on  horseback,  and  put  an  end  to  the  solicitude  of  the 
troops  by  showing  himself  publiclv  among  them. 

Thus  within  five  davs  (the  space  and  almost  the  very  davs  of 
the  month  which  Buonaparte  had  assigned  for  settling  the  affairs 
of  Germany)  the  original  aspect  of  the  war  was  entirely  changed  ; 
and  Austria,  from  the  character  of  an  aggressor  in  which  she 
was  proud  of  appearing,  was  compelled  to  submit  to  one  which  she 
hated  and  to  which  custom  had  not  reconciled  her.  At  no  period 
of  his  dazzling  career  did  the  genius  of  Xapoleon  seem  more  com- 
pletelv  to  prostrate  all  opposition:  at  no  time  perhaps  did  the 
talents  of  a  single  individual  exercise  such  an  influence  on  the 
fate  of  the  world.      The  forces  which  he  had  in  the  field  had  been 


436  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

not  only  unequal  in  numbers  to  those  of  the  enemy  ;  but  they 
were  in  a  military  point  of  view  misplaced  and  imperfectly  com- 
bined. Napoleon  arrived  alone;  found  himself  under  all  these 
disadvantages  ;  and  by  his  unrivalled  genius  came  in  the  course 
of  five  days  in  complete  triumph  out  #f  a  struggle  which  bore  to 
any  one  else  a  character  so  unpromising.  It  was  no  wonder  that 
others,  nay  that  he  himself  should  have  annexed  to  his  person  the 
degree  of  superstitious  reverence  claimed  for  the  chosen  instru- 
ments of  Destiny,  whose  path  must  not  Le  crossed,  and  whose  arm 
cannot  he  arrested. 

While  the  relics  of  the  Archduke  Charles's  army  were  in  full 
retreat  to  Bohemia,  Napoleon  employed  the  23rd  and  24th  of 
April  in  reviewing  his  troops  and  distributing  honors  and  rewards 
with  a  liberal  hand.  It  was  on  occasions  like  these  that  he  was 
seen  to  the  utmost  advantage  :  if  sometimes  too  much  of  the  soldier 
among  sovereigns,  no  one  could  pretend  with  so  good  a  right  to 
be  a  sovereign  among  soldiers.  "  I  create  you  a  knight  :  what 
is  your  name  ?"  he  said  to  a  soldier,  striking  him  familiarly  on 
the  cheek.  "  You  ought  to  know  it  well,"  answered  the  soldier, 
'•  since  I  am  the  man  who  in  the  deserts  of  Syria  when  you  were 
in  extremity,  relieved  you  from  my  flask."  Napoleon  instantly 
recollected  the  individual  and  the  circumstance  :  ,;  I  make  you  a 
knight,"  lie  said,  "  with  an  annuity  of  twelve  hundred  francs — 
what  will  you  do  with  so  much  money  V  "  Drink  with  my 
comrades  to  the  health  of  him  who  is  so  necessary  to  us."  The 
Generals  had  their  share  in  the  Imperial  bounty,  particularly 
Davoust,  to  whose  brilliant  execution  of  the  manoeuvres  com- 
manded bv  Napoleon  the  victory  was  in  a  great  measure  to  he 
attributed.  He  was  created  Duke  of  Hckmuhl.  Napoleon  bv 
connectinc  the  names  of  1  lie  places  where  great  battles  were  fought 
with  the  titles  of  those  who  contributed  to  gain  them,  allied  the 
recollection  of  their  merits  with  his  own  grateful  acknowledg- 
ment of  them  ;  and  made  every  new  title  lie  conferred  a  power- 
ful spur  to  fresh  exertions  in  the  pari)  of  honor  ami  ambition. 

The  Archduke  Charles  after  the  defeat  at  Eckmuhl  threw  him- 
self into  the  defiles  and  mountainous  passns  of  Bohemia,  where 
ne  could  have  made  a  protracted  defence,  had  Buonaparte  chosen 
x>  follow  him.      But  instead  of  entangling  himself  in  the   pursuit, 


CAMPAIGN   IN   1809.  437 

being  in  possession  of  the  right  baMc  of  the  Danube  and  of  the 
high  road  to  that  city,  he  marched  straight  to  Vienna.  It  is  true, 
General  Hiller,  who  had  been  repulsed  at  Landshut,  had  oeen 
joined  by  a  considerable  reserve  and  was  placed  between  him  and 
the  capital :  the  Archduke,  should  he  advance,  might  hang  upon 
his  rear  ;  a  strong  spirit  of  discontent  loured  like  a  black  cloud 
over  the  mountains  of  the  Tyro!  ;  and  the  north  of  Germany  had 
begun  to  manifest  a  feeling  of  soreness  and  resistance  to  the  gall- 
ing pressure  of  evils  which  they  had  intended  for  others,  but  had 
never  meant  should  come  home  to  themselves.  These  doubtful 
considerations,  which  might  have  staggered  a  man  of  less  resolu- 
tion than  Buonaparte,  only  accelerated  his  determination  to  com- 
pel Austria  to  a  peace,  by  descending  the  Danube  and  occupying 
her  capital  a  second  time.  All  was  shortly  in  motion.  General 
Pliller,  too  weak  to  attempt  the  defence  of  the  Inn,  retreated  to 
Ebersbcrg,  a  village  with  a  castle  upon  the  river  Traun,  a  posi- 
tion which  was  deemed  next  to  impregnable,  and  into  which  the 
Austrians  had  thrown  thirty  thousand  men.  It  was  carried  by 
Massena  on  the  3d  of  May  in  a  furious  assault,  in  which  the  loss 
was  nearly  equal  to  the  victors  and  the  vanquished.  General 
I  Idler  retired  to  St.  Polten  and  crossed  the  Danube  at  Muntern, 
hoping  to  effect  his  junction  with  the  Archduke  on  the  left  bank, 
and  leaving  the  right  open  to  Buonaparte's  march  on  Vienna. 
This  city  has  no  other  fortifications  than  those  which  defended  it 
against  the  Turks  in  1683.  The  Archduke  Maximilian  had  the 
command  of  the  garrison,  which  was  not  numerous  enough  to  hold 
out  against  the  enemy.  The  Emperor  and  the  greater  part  of  his 
family  had  fled  to  Buda  in  Hungary  ;  only  one  remained  behind, 
the  Archduchess  Maria-Louisa,  who  was  confined  by  indisposition, 
and  soon  after  destined  to  be  carried  away  as  a  hostage  and  a  bride. 
The  shower  of  bombs  first  fell  on  the  palace,  but  as  soon  as 
Buonaparte  was  apprised  of  the  situation  of  the  Archduchess,  the 
palace  was  spared,  and  the  storm  of  missiles  directed  to  other 
quarters.  The  intention  of  defending  the  capital  was  not  lonrj 
persisted  in  ;  the  Archduke  with  his  troops  evacuated  the  city, 
and  the  capitulation  was  signed  on  the  12th  Buonaparte  did  not 
enter  Vienna,  but  fixed  his  head-quarters  at  Schonbrunu,  a  palaeo 

37  * 


438  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

of  the  Emperor's  in  the  vicinity.  The  Archduke  Charles,  unable 
to  prevent  the  fall  of  Vienna,  now  thought  only  of  relieving  it. 

He  approached  the  left  bank  of  the  Danube,  therefore,  which 
had  been  swoln  by  the  rains  and  melting  of  the  snow,  and  over 
which  the  bridges  had  been  destroyed  to  prevent  the  enemy  from 
passing  at  their  ease,  as  they  had  done  in  1805.  Buonaparte, 
who  was  on  the  right  bank,  anxious  to  give  battle  to  the  Arch- 
duke and  put  an  end  to  the  contest,  endeavored  to  pass  over  first 
at  Neusdorf  about  half  a  league  above  Vienna  (where  the  stream 
is  narrow  and  rapid) — but  failing  in  the  attempt  (five  hundred 
men  whom  he  pushed  across  having  been  cut  off  and  taken)  he 
proceeded  to  a  place  called  Ebersdorf,  two  leagues  below  "\  ienna, 
where  the  Danube  is  divided  into  five  brandies,  and  here  had  a 
bridge  thrown  across  the  islands  which  form  them,  the  large  Isle 
of  Lobau  being  the  last  or  next  to  the  left  bank  of  the  river.  The 
Archduke  did  not  seem  disposed  to  interrupt  the  construction  of 
the  bridges  or  the  passage  of  the  river.  On  the  19th  Buonaparte 
hastened  the  finishing  of  the  last  bridge,  and  on  the  "20th  passed 
over  with  about  thirty  thousand  infantry  and  six  thousand  horses, 
occupying  a  little  plain  between  the  villages  of  Aspern  to  the  left 
and  Es^iing  on  the  right.  Aspern  was  half  a  mile,  Essling  a 
mile  and  three  quarters  from  the  bridge.  These  villages  with  a 
redoubt  hastily  constructed  to  guard  the  bridge  were  occupied  by 
the  French. 

The  reports  brought  in  during  the  niejit  concerning  the  enemy 
were  contradictory  and  uncertain.  Many  lights  were  seen  on 
the  heights  of  Bisamberg;  but  nearer  to  the  French  and  in  their 
front,  the  horizon  exhibited  a  pale  <*>-oak  of  about  a  league  in 
length,  the  reflected  lii;ht  of  numerous  watch-fires,  which  a  rising 
ground  between  prevented  from  being  themselves  visible.  From 
such  indications  as  could  be  collected,  hannes  was  of  opinion  that 
they  had  only  a  strong  rear-guard  before  them,  while  Massena 
maintained  that  thev  were  in  presence  of  the  whole  Austrian 
drmv,  Xapoleon  was  on  horseback  by  break  of  day  on  the  21st 
to  judge  for  himself;  but  clouds  of  lierht  troops  prevented  his 
tretting  near  enough  to  reconnoitre  accurately.  Presently  the 
skirmishers  were  withdrawn,  and  the  Austrians  were  seen  advan- 
cing with  their  whole  force,  double  in  number  to  the  French,  and 


CAMPAIGN   IN    1S09.  438 

with  two  hundred  and  twenty  pieces  of  artillery.  Yet  with  this 
vast  disproportion  of  odds,  they  were  strangely  astonished  at  the 
stand  which  they  made  on  this  occasion,  as  the  French  were  mor- 
tified and  reproached  with  having  suffered  a  repulse  or  made  only 
a  drawn  battle  of  it  instead  of  a  complete  victory.  The  conflict 
commenced  about  four  in  the  afternoon  with  a  furious  attack  on 
the  village  of  Aspern,  which  was  taken  and  retaken  several  times, 
and  at  the  close  of  the  day  remained  (except  the  church  and 
church-yard)  in  the  possession  of  Massena,  though  on  fire  with  the 
b  mibs  and  choked  up  with  the  slain.  Essling  was  the  object  of 
three  general  attacks,  against  all  which  the  French  stood  their 
ground.  Lannes  was  at  one  time  on  the  point  of  being  overpow- 
ered, had  not  Napoleon  by  a  sudden  charge  of  cavalry  come  to 
his  relief.  Night  separated  the  combatants.  The  next  day  the 
battle  was  renewed,  each  party  having  received  reinforcements. 
The  French  retook  the  church  of  Aspern  ;  but  the  fighting  was  as 
obstinate  and  sanguinary  as  ever.  Buonaparte  observing  that  the 
Austrians  bent  ail  their  force  on  the  village  of  Aspern  on  their 
right,  keeping  back  their  left  and  centre,  concluded  that  the  last 
were  their  feebh  st  points,  and  came  to  the  immediate  resolution 
of  moving  forward  the  whole  French  centre  and  right  wing,  in 
hopes  of  overpowering  and  outflanking  them  on  their  weak  side. 
The  Austrian  line  was  in  danger  of  being  turned  and  pierced  by 
this  movement.  The  Archduke  Charles  with  equal  presence  of 
mind  and  intrepidity  hastened  to  the  spot  where  the  shock  was 
greatest;  filled  up  the  chasms  which  had  been  made  in  his  line 
with  the  reserve  ;  and  seizing  a  standard,  himself  led  the  grena- 
diers to  the  charge.  Thus  stood  the  battle  doubtful  but  fearful  to 
the  Austrians,  when  suddenly  the  bridge  which  Buonaparte  had 
established  over  the  Danube  was  swept  away  by  the  flood. 

This  accident  made  it  necessary  for  the  French  General  to 
think  of  measures  for  securing  or  restoring  his  communications 
with  the  right  bank.  Fortunately  for  him.  that  end  of  the  bridge 
which  connected  the  Isle  of  Lobau  with  the  left  bank  on  which 
they  were  fighting  remained  uninjured,  and  was  protected  by  for- 
tifications. This,  together  with  the  camion  of  Essling  and  the 
extraordinary  conduct  and  valor  of  the  troops,  enabled  Buonaparte 
to  withdraw  the  remains  of  his  army  into  the  Isle  of  Lobau  and 


440  LIFE    OF    NAPOLEON. 

to  establish  himself  there  during  the  night.  The  loss  on  both 
sides  had  been  dreadful,  being  conjectured  at  twenty  thousand 
killed  and  wounded  in  each  army.  General  St.  Ililaire,  one  of 
the  best  French  generals,  was  killed  in  the  action,  and  Lannes 
mortally  wounded  was  brought  to  die  in  the  island.  Both  his 
legs  had  been  shattered  to  pieces  in  the  last  assault  ;  yet  he  refused 
to  die,  and  insisted  that  the  surgeon  ought  to  be  hanged  who  could 
not  cure  a  Marshal  and  Duke  of  Montebello.  He  could  only  be 
pacified  when  Buonaparte  was  near  him,  clung  round  him  as  ifeven 
Death  had  not  power  to  tear  him  from  the  God  of  lus  idolatry, 
and  called  upon  his  name  to  the  last  as  if  it  were  a  spell  to  charm 
anguish  and  despair.  It  could  not  be  that  he  who  was  called  the 
Roland  of  the  army  was  afraid  of  death  ;  but  the  memory  of  a 
hundred  victories  swelled  in  his  bosom,  and  he  had  not  yet  slaked 
his  thirst  of  glory  !  Buonaparte  lamented  him  much  ;  said  he 
had  found  him  a  mere  swordsman,  but  that  he  soon  rose  to  the 
highest  rank  in  his  profession,  and  would  have  improved  still  more 
had  he  lived  ;  and  (what  was  the  highest  praise  of  all)  spoke  of 
him  as  one  of  those  who,  he  felt  confident,  would  not  have  de- 
serted him  in  his  misfortunes  ! 

On  the  morning  of  the  23rd.  the  day  after  the  bloody  battle  of 
Aspern,  Napoleon  found  himself  cooped  up  with  his  wounded  and 
diminished  forces  in  the  island  of  Lobau  and  another  smaller  one, 
facing  Enzersdorf,  separated  from  the  left  bank  by  a  channel  only 
forty  yards  wide.  His  communication  with  Davoust  and  the 
troops  on  the  right  bank  was  completely  cut  off  by  the  breaking 
down  of  th'?  bridges  the  day  before.  Here,  had  the  enemy  been 
as  alert  in  improving  their  advantages  as  he  was  in  repairing  his 
disasters,  he  might  have  been  assailed  and  overpowered  ;  yet  the 
Archduke  in  these  circumstances  did  nothing,  but  remained  spell- 
bound  bv  the  recollections  of  so  many  former  defeats,  provoked 
and  sustained.  Buonaparte  cm  the  other  hand  set  to  work  with 
unexampled  activity,  undismayed  by  his  situation,  patient  ot  his 
repulse,  submitting  to  necessity  and  mastering  it  as  the  horse  is 
tamed  by  the  rider  ;  and  on  the  morning  of  the  second  day  had 
re-established  bis  communications  with  Davoust ;  had  converted 
the  Isle  of  Lobau  into  an  entrenched  camp  defended  by  battering, 
cannon  from  surprise  or  storm  :    and  had  constructed  three  oridges 


CAMPAIGN   IN    1S09.  441 

lower  down  (cither  unsuspected  or  unopposed  by  the  Austrians, 
who  still  persisted  in  their  first  persuasion  that  he  had  no  othei 
mode  of  communication  with  the  left  bank  than  the  bridge  near 
Aspern)  by  which  he  sallied  forth  a  few  days  after  to  be  once 
more  the  assailant  and  the  victor.  lie  might  be  said  to  laugh  at 
defeat ;  and  the  impediments  or  stumbling-blocks  thrown  in  his 
way  were  only  the  vantage-ground  from  which  he  returned  to 
the  charge  with  increased  vigor  and  success. 

New  and  formidable  reinforcements  were  expected  to  join  the 
combatants.  The  Archduke  John  had  been  successful  over  the 
Viceroy  in  Italy,  and  had  compelled  him  to  retire  upon  the  Adige, 
till  the  news  of  the  defeat  at  Eckmuhl  made  him  hasten  back 
through  Hungary  to  his  brother's  assistance.  lie  was  followed 
by  Eugene  Beauharnais,  who  gained  the  frontiers  of  Hungary  as 
soon  as  he  did  ;  and  the  town  of  Raab  surrendering  after  a  siege 
of  eight  days  opened  the  road  for  the  Viceroy  to  join  the  Em- 
peror ;  while  the  Archduke  John  crossing  the  Danube  at  Pres- 
burg  below  Vienna,  hastened  forward  to  effect  his  junction  with 
the  Archduke  Charles.  Napoleon  did  not  allow  him  time.  On 
the  5th  of  July,  at  ten  o'clock  at  night,  the  French  began  to  cross 
from  the  islands  in  the  Danube  to  the  left-hand  bank,  either  in 
gun-boats  which  silenced  the  Austrian  batteries  or  over  the  new 
bridges  which  were  out  of  reach  of  their  fire.  At  day-light,  the 
Archduke  had  the  unpleasant  surprise  of  finding  the  whole 
French  army  on  the  left  bank  of  the  river,  after  having  turned 
the  fortifications  which  he  had  erected  to  oppose  their  passage. 
Essling  and  Enzersdorf  were  taken,  and  the  French  line  of  battle 
was  formed  on  the  extremity  of  the  Archduke's  left  wing.  lie 
endeavored  to  outflank  their  right  in  turn,  while  the  French  made 
a  push  to  break  the  Austrian  centre  stationed  at  Wagram,  of 
which  village  only  one  house  remained  standing,  and  which  was 
occupied  by  the  Archduke  Charles,  when  night  closed  the  battle. 
Courier  upon  courier  was  sent  to  the  Archduke  John  to  hasten 
his  march.  On  the  next  day,  the  Gth  of  July,  was  fought  the 
fain  )us  battle  of  Wagram,  in  which  the  Archduke  committed  the 
error  of  extending  his  line  too  much.  The  enemy  perceived  this 
advantage,  and  Lauriston  with  a  hundred  pieces  of  cannon  hav. 
ing   broken  through  the   centre,  and   Davoust  turning  the  whole 

2ii* 


M2  LIFE    OF    XAPOLFON. 


left  wing  at  the  same  time,  decided  the  victory.  Napoleon  was 
everywhere  in  the  hottest  of  the  fight,  though  the  appearance  o'- 
his  retinue  drew  on  him  a  shower  of  grape  by  which  he  was  con- 
stant] v  endangered.  lie  rode  along  in  front  of  the  line  upon  a 
horse  as  white  as  snow  called  the  Euphrates,  and  which,  had  been 
a  present  from  the  Sophi  of  Persia.  The  shots  were  flying  in 
every  direction  ;  and  one  of  them  hit  .Marshal  Bessieres,  who  fell 
from  his  hors"  as  if  struck  by  a  thunderbolt.  Buonaparte  seeing 
it,  and  thinking  he  was  killi  d,  turned  away  and  said,  "  Let  us 
avoid  another  scene,''  in  allusion  to  Marshal  Lannes.  He  com- 
plained that  the  cavalry  towards  the  close  of  the  action  did  not 
do  their  dutv,  and  had  deprived  him  of  the  fruits  of  his  victory. 
Murat's  absence  was  felt,  who  instead  of  brandishing  a  sword 
was  at  this  time  wielding  his  new  Neapolitan  sceptre.  The 
French  took  twenty  thousand  prisoners,  and  so  complete  was  the 
discomfiture  that  when  the  Archduke  John  came  up  with  a  part 
of  his  army  before  the  battle  was  quite  over,  he  was  glad  to  retire 
from  the  field  unnoticed  by  the  enemy.  All  hope  of  further  re- 
sistance  was  now  abandoned  by  the  Austrian  generals  and  gov- 
ernment ;  and  they  concluded  an  armistice  with  Buonaparte  at 
Ziiaim,  by  which  they  agreed  to  evacuate  the  Tyrol,  and  put  the 
citadels  of  Brunn  and  Gratz  into  the  hands  of  Napoleon  as  pledges 
of  their  sincerity  in  demanding  peace. 

While  Buonaparte  was  striking  these  bodv-blows  at  the  Coali. 
tion,  its  extremities  seemed  to  feel  the  quivering  and  convulsive 
throes  of  a  last  expiring  agony.  The'  war  in  the'  Tyrol  assumed 
a  romantic  and  picturesque  character,  corresponding  with  the 
habits  of  the  natives  and  the  nature  of  the  scenery.  The  follow- 
ing touching  account  of  the  condition  of  the  people  is  given  bv 
one,  whom  (when  he  indulges  the  untrammelled  bent  of  his  mind) 
ii  i  one  can  equal  in  beauty  or  in  power.  "The  extremes  of  rank 
and  wealth  are  unknown  in  those  pastoral  districts;  thev  ha\e 
almost  no  distinction  among  the  inhabitants  ;  neither  nobles  nor 
serfs,  neither  ufiiee-bearers  nor  dependents;  in  one  sense,  neither 
rich  nor  pour.  Their  magistrates  in  peace  and  leaders  in  war 
were  no  nth  irwi-c  distinguished  irmii  the  rest  of  the  nation  than 
by  their  sagacity  and  general  intelligence  As  great  a  degree 
of  equality  as   is  perhaps  consistent  with  the  existence  of  society 


CAMPAIGN   IN    1809.  443 

is  to  be  found  in  the  Tyrol."  And  we  are  to  be  tantalized  with 
this  picture,  made  studiously  mild  and  amiable,  not  as  a  foil,  but 
as  a  cover  to  the  designs  of  despotism  :  and  by  one,  whom  the 
same  words  of  liberty  and  equality,  used  in  any  other  connection 
and  for  any  other  purpose,  would  throw  into  the  rage  and  hyster- 
ics of  a  fine  lady  who  sees  a  toad  or  spider  near  her.  The  poor 
Tyrol ese  did  not  know  that  it  was  the  attempt  to  extend  this 
model  of  "  the  best  possible"  state  of  society  for  the  benefit  of 
the  common  kind,  and  the  determination  of  their  lordly  masters 
to  trample  on  and  crush  that  spark  of  hope  that  threatened  the 
downfall  of  all  that  is  corrupt  and  odious  in  governments,  again 
and  again  thrown  back  in  defeat  and  dismay  on  the  aggressors' 
heads,  that  at  length  brought  the  tide  of  war  and  conquest  into 
the  remote  recesses  of  their  mountain-fastnesses  (free  for  that 
reason)  and  rudely  tore  asunder  all  their  previous  habits  and  con- 
nections. If  there  is  any  thing  that  could  wound  the  ears  of  ab- 
solute sovereigns,  it  must  be  the  shrill  cry  of  liberty  raised  in 
their  defence,  when  they  know  it  is  the  fixed  purpose  to  destroy 
and  betray  its  very  name,  on  which  they  have  staked  and  are  still 
ready  to  stake  their  own  existence  and  that  of  all  belonging  to 
theui.  The  lords  of  the  earth  must  be  sunk  low  indeed  when 
they  are  obliged  to  appeal  to  the  people  to  raise  them  from  the 
dust.  Xo  wonder  they  so  soon  resent  the  interposition  of  their 
subjects  as  an  impertinence  or  dangerous  freedom  at  best.  The 
Austrian  government  felt  so  little  sympathy  with  the  Tyroleso 
that  at  the  peace  they  were  given  up  without  any  reluctance  to 
their  fate ;  and  II offer  with  thirty  others  of  these  plebeian  volun- 
teers in  the  cause  of  Legitimacy  expiated  their  mistake  in  not 
knowing  their  own  side  of  the  question,  as  rebels  and  traitors  on 
the  scaffold.  While  the  Archduke  John  proceeded  into  Italy  to 
awaken  the  loyalty  of  the  inhabitants  in  favor  of  their  old  mas- 
ters, the  Archduke  Ferdinand  advanced  northward  to  kindle  the 
patriotism  of  the  Poles  in  favor  of  their  new  oppressors.  He  had 
over-run  the  Duchy  of  Warsaw,  and  might  have  made  a  present 
of  his  share  of  the  partition  of  Poland  to  the  King  of  Prussia, 
had  not  the  royal  hands  been  at  this  time  tied  up  from  receiving 
back  that  recent  and  equitable  acquisition.  At  the  same  time 
Katt,  Schill,  and  Dornberg  raised  the  standard  of  revolt  in  tho 


444  LIFE   OF   XAPOLEON. 


north  of  Germany,  and  were  resolved  to  set  the  King  of  Prussia 
free  in  spite  of  himself.  After  the  battle  of  Eckmuhl.  he  disa- 
vowed their  proceedings,  and  they  perished  in  the  adventurous 
attempt  to  shake  oil  their  new  subjection  and  to  return  in  triumph 
and  as  avengers  to  their  old  bondage.  These  irregular  and  un- 
governable ebullitions  of  loyalty  and  patriotism  are  well  described 
as  opposed  to  "  that  cold  and  passive  slavery  of  mind  which  makes 
men  as  patient  under  a  change  of  masters  as  the  dull  animal  who 
follows  witli  indifference  any  person  who  has  the  end  of  the  hal- 
ter in  his  band.'"  It  is  the  change  of  masters  tiiat  excites  all  the 
resistance  and  resentment  :  the  attempt  to  shake  oil*  the  slavery 
itself  would  call  tor  greater  indignation  and  an  universal  combi- 
nation to  crush  it.  Man  is  not  the  only  animal  that  submits  to 
slaveiy  ;  but  he  is  the  only  animal  that  runs  mad  for  love  of  it  ! 
The  Duke  of  Brunswick  set  up  to  play  the  antic  about  the  same 
time,  with  his  banners  in  mourning  and  his  death's-heads  embla- 
zoned on  them — "  his  was  a  fee-grief  due  to  his  single  breast" — 
he  had  a  father  slain,  as  if  he  only  had  a  father  slain  in  that  long 
and  bloody  contest  which  his  father  provoked  and  announced  to 
Europe.  The  presumption  implied  under  this  mask  of  filial 
piety  is  the  best  comment  on  the  principles  in  which  he  had 
been  brought  up.  For  sovereigns  and  princes  to  be  in  all  other 
respects  privileged  and  unlike  other  men  is  an  old  story;  but  that 
they  should  not  be  vulnerable  to  cannon-balls  or  that  they  should 
not  die  of  their  wounds,  is  new  and  paradoxical.  If  their  being 
in  this  nic*  point  liable  to  the  common  lot  entails  revenge  and  ha- 
tred on  a  whole  nation  who  had  dared  to  meet  them  in  the  fh  Id, 
really  after  this  they  have  nothing  more  to  do  but  to  imitate  the 
example  of  the  Navrs,  who  crv  out  to  the  Parias  when  they  hear 
them  coming  to  get  out  of  their  way,  lest  if  they  should  be  con- 
tai  .:.  ated  u  itli  their  si^ht,  they  sh  ail  i  be  obliged  to  kill  them  ! 
The  Duke  of  Brunswick  in  spite  of  the  risks  he  ran  and  the  des- 
ness  of  his  undertaking,  escaped  bv  g  i  "1  fortune  to  England, 
"  where  the  people  were  as  mad  as  he  ;"  and  fell  at  last  on  that 
dav  which  sealed  the  doom  his  father  had  foretold  to  France  and 
freedom  three-and-twrnty  years  before  ! 

We   figured    at    this  eri-ds    bv    our   well-known    rxpedi  ion   to 
\nt.verp  and  the   island  of  Wulcheren,  which  cost  the  lives  of 


CAMPAIGN  IN    1S09.  443 

several  thousand  British  troops  cooped  up  in  an  unhealthy  swamp; 
and  (more  alarming  still)  might  have  cost  the  lives  of  two  of  our 
British  statesmen,  who  fought  a  duel  about  their  share  in  the 
honor  of  that  disastrous  enterprise.  Fouche  (as  Minister  of  the 
Interior  for  the  time)  did  himself  no  good  with  his  master  by 
sending  Bernadotte  (who  was  at  Paris  in  a  sort  of  disgrace  for 
claiming  the  merit  of  the  battle  of  Wagram  to  himself)  to  take 
the  command  of  forty  thousand  men  hastily  collected  for  the  de- 
fence of  Antwerp  ;  and  by  boasting  in  a  proclamation,  that  ':  how- 
ever  Napoleon  might  add  by  his  genius  to  the  glory  of  France, 
he  was  not  necessary  to  enable  Frenchmen  to  repel  invaders 
from  her  soil."  Russia  showed  an  evident  disinclination  to 
join  heartily  as  an  ally  with  France  against  Austria,  though 
none  to  complete  the  annexation  of  Finland  to  her  empire  or  to 
march  on  the  Turkish  provinces  of  Moldavia  and  Wallachia  with 
the  connivance  of  France,  which  had  been  made  the  price  of 
her  alliance.  Buonaparte  saw  through  this  conduct  and  the  thin 
veil  of  professions  which  disguised  it.  ';  I  must  not  give  way,' 
he  said,  "to  a  vain  illusion.  They  have  all  sworn  my  ruin,  but 
have  not  the  courage  to  compass  it."  The  Pope  too  plaved  his 
cards  with  that  instinctive  cunning  and  evasive  pertinacity  with 
which  power  clings  to  its  own  maintenance  or  to  the  shadow  of 
authority.  His  predecessor  had  proudly  joined  his  banner  to 
that  of  Austria  and  marched  against  France  in  1790  :  he  him- 
self refused  to  join  in  any  quarrel  with  the  English  (though 
heretics)  as  universal  father  of  the  Christian  church.  Thus  zeal 
for  Holy  Church  or  Christian  charity  by  dictating  alternately 
neutrality  or  hostility  pointed  to  one  and  the  same  end.  Pius 
VII.  refused  peremptorily  to  man  the  fortress  of  Ancona  against 
the  English  or  to  let  French  troops  march  from  Naples  through 
the  Pope's  territory  to  repel  the  invasion  of  Upper  Italy  by  the 
Austrians.  lie  was  therefore  dispossessed  of  his  temporalities 
which  he  made  use  of  to  screen  the  enemies  of  France;  and  as 
ho  on  this  excommunicated  the  Emperor,  lie  was  conducted  a 
prisoner  first  to  Savona  and  afterwards  to  Fontainebleau,  so  as  to 
place  both  the  successor  of  Charlemagne  and  the  successor  of  St. 
Peter  in  no  very  pleasant  or  creditable  point  of  view. 

By  the  treaty  of  Schonbrunn  Austria  gave  up  less  ihan  from 

38 


446  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON 

the  nature  of  her  aggression  and  the  losses  she  had  sustained 
there  was  reason  to  expect.  What  she  chiefly  ceded  were  some 
states  on  the  borders  of  Germany  and  Italy  tending  to  strengthen 
the  province  of  Illyria  belonging  to  France,  and  her  only  sea- 
port of  Trieste,  so  as  to  cut  off  the  possibility  of  her  communica- 
tion with  England.  The  moderation  of  the  terms  and  the  length 
to  which  the  conferences  had  run  were  afterwards  supposed  to  be 
better  understood  when  the  intended  marriage  of  Napoleon  with  the 
Archduchess  Maria-Louisa  came  to  be  known.  The  conferences 
were  chiefly  carried  on  by  Buonaparte  in  person,  who  lavished 
every  attention  and  courtesy  on  the  Austrian  commissioners,  so 
that  from  his  manner  alone  it  was  conjectured  that  something 
more  than  mere  politics  or  territorial  arrangements  was  on  the 
carpet.  This  might  however  be  a  mere  courtly  conjecture,  con- 
jured up  by  brains  ever  on  the  watch  for  every  turn  of  for- 
tune. Yet  it  is  certain  that  the  serious  steps  towards  a  divorce 
dated  from  this  period. — Difficulties  however  sometimes  arose,  and 
the  course  of  the  negociation  did  not  run  quite  smooth  ;  and  once 
in  particular,  Napoleon  coming  out  of  his  room  with  the  Prince  of 
Neufchatel  was  heard  to  sav,  "  If  they  do  not  soon  put  an  end  to 
it,  I  will  send  for  the  Grand-Duke  of  Wurtzburg  and  place  the 
Imperial  crown  of  Austria  on  his  head."  It  was  during  this  de- 
lay that  he  received  the  news  of  the  battle  of  Talavera,  which 
vexed  him  a  good  deal  :  and  it  was  a  month  before  he  learned  the 
particulars,  owing  to  the  interruption  of  the  communications  be- 
tween Bayonne  and  Madrid.  On  this  occasion  he  said  of  the  of- 
ficers commanding  in  Spain,  "Those  men  are  very  self-sufficient. 
I  am  allowed  to  possess  some  superiority  of  talent  ;  and  yet  1 
never  think  I  can  have  an  army  sufficiently  numerous  to  fight  a 
battle  even  witli  an  enemy  I  have  been  accustomed  to  defeat.  1 
collect  about  me  all  the  troops  I  can  bring  together  ;  they  on  the 
contrary  advance  boldly  to  attack  an  enemy  with  whom  they  are 
scarcely  acquainted,  and  yet  they  only  bring  one  half  of  their 
troops  to  the  contest.  Is  it  possible  to  manoeuvre  more  awk- 
wardlv  ?  I  cannot  be  present  everywhere.  Ilr.d  the  three  corps 
of  Soult.  Nov,  and  Morlier  been  with  me,  I  should  have  given 
the  Austrians  work."  At  length  peace  was  signed  ;  and  the 
same  day  he  sent  for  M.  Champagny,  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs, 


CAMPAIGN    IN    1S09.  447 


who  had  heen  ostensibly  carrying  on  a  similar  negociation  wi'h 
Count  Metternich  at  Altenburg.  He  asked  M.  Champagnv,  if  he 
had  not  been  surprised  at  the  little  he  had  had  to  do  at  Altenburg 
and  at  the  turn  things  had  taken  ?  Tbe  other  replied  that  "  in 
his  quality  of  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  he  indeed  knew  little 
of  what  was  passing."  The  Emperor  laughed,  and  seemed  to 
enjoy  the  triumph  over  his  Minister.  He  set  off"  for  France  two 
days  after  (16th  of  October)  and  on  the  1st  of  November  received 
the  congratulations  of  the  Senate  on  having  fixed  the  peace  and 
happiness  of  the  world  on  a  solid  and  lasting  basis. 

While  Buonaparte  was  at  Schonbrunn,  his  life  was  in  danger 
from  one  of  those  accidents  to  which  persons  in  his  situation  are  al- 
ways exposed.  It  was  his  custom  to  review  the  troops  every  morn- 
ing in  the  court  before  the  palace.  He  descended  to  the  parade 
by  a  flight  of  steps  and  generally  stopped  at  the  bottom  to  speak  to 
and  receive  petitions  from  different  persons.  One  day,  being 
anxious  to  review  some  French  prisoners  that  had  been  exchanged 
and  wanting  to  interrogate  them  more  particularly  as  to  their 
situation,  he  did  not  pause  in  descending  the  steps  of  the  palace, 
but  passed  on  directly  towards  the  troops.  An  individual,  dressed 
in  a  plain  blue  frock  and  holding  a  paper  in  his  hand,  seeing  that 
Napoleon  did  not  stop,  insisted  on  following  him  and  presenting 
his  petition  himself.  Berthier,  who  was  in  attendance  on  the  Em- 
peror, told  him  that  he  might  deliver  his  petition  when  the  re- 
view was  over:  Napoleon,  taken  up  with  his  prisoners,  did  not 
perceive  what  was  passing  behind  him.  In  spite  of  the  recom- 
mendation of  the  Prince  of  Neufchatel,  the  stranger  continued  to 
follow,  pretending  that  the  object  of  his  petition  did  not  admit  of 
delay,  and  that  lie  must  speak  with  Napoleon  himself.  General 
Rapp,  the  aide-de-camp  on  duty,  seeing  that  he  still  persevered 
and  thrust  himself  in  among  the  general  officers  who  formed 
the  Emperor's  suite,  seized  him  by  the  collar  of  his  riding-coat, 
at  the  same  time  loudly  telling  him  to  retire  :  in  doing  so,  Rapp 
felt  the  handle  of  some  instrument  which  this  man  carried  in  a 
side-pocket:  he  kept  last  hold  of  him,  and  gave  him  in  charge  to 
two  gnukirmns  to  secure  and  take  him  to  the  guard-house.  On 
examination  a  large  knife  was  found  upon  him,  with  which  he 
confessed  it  was  his  intention  to  assassinate  the  Emperor.      Napo- 


443  LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON. 

leon  is  said  to  have  known  nothing  of  what  happened  till  he  re. 
turned  to  the  palace,  when  he  ordered  the  man  to  be  brought  be- 
fore him.  lie  stated  that  he  was  the  son  of  a  Lutheran  clergy- 
man at  Erfurt,  and  that  he  had  left  his  own  country  to  put  in  ex- 
ecution the  design  in  which  he  had  just  failed,  but  he  considered 
the  attempt  as  the  most  glorious  action  of  his  life.  Napoleon 
asked,  what  harm  he  had  done  him  ?  lie  answered,  None  ;  but 
that  he  was  the  most  cruel  enemy  of  Germany,  which  he  had 
ruined  by  the  war  he  had  waged  against  it.  Buonaparte  in 
terrupted  him  by  saying,  "  Why  then  did  you  not  kill  the  Em 
peror,  as  he  was  the  cause  of  the  war,  and  not  I  ?"  He  replied, 
"  Oh  !  lie  is  a  blockhead  ;  and  if  he  were  killed,  another  like 
him  would  be  put  upon  the  throne ;  but  if  you  were  dead  it 
would  not  be  easy  to  find  such  another."*  "  But  were  I  to  par- 
don you,"  resumed  Napoleon,  "  would  you  not  in  gratitude  re- 
linquish the  idea  of  assassinating  me  ?"  "  I  would  not  advise 
you,"  said  this  enthusiast,  "  for  1  have  sworn  your  death." 
"  Surely  this  man  is  mad,"  said  the  Emperor,  and  he  had  his 
physician  Corvisart  called  to  feel  his  pulse  •  but  he  declared  that 
it  was  quite  steady  and  regular.  The  man,  whose  name  was 
Stubbs,  was  placed  in  confinement  and  kept  without  food  or  sleep 
for  twenty-four  hours  to  try  if  this  would  have  any  effect  upon 
him.  But  he  still  refused  to  make  any  disclosures  or  to  dis- 
avow his  purpose  for  the  future.  Napoleon  wished  to  have 
spared  his  life  ;  but  the  danger  of  the  example  and  the  man's  ob- 
stinacy were  insisted  on  as  doiiifj  away  the  possibility  of  clemency 
in  his  case.      He  was  afterwards  tried  and  shot. 

O  Meara  irives  another  instance  of  the  kind,  which  must  have 
occurred  about  the  same  period  or  shortly  after. 

"  Another  tone,''  proceeded  the  Emperor,  "  a  letter  was  sent  to 

*  Popular  power  when  divided  anion::  the  multitude  is  destroyed  and 
tv.  ;kencd  1'V  discord  and  faction-; :  when  placed  in  the  hands  of  an  individ- 
n  :1.  it  is  endangered  by  aiming  at  him  personally.  Monarchical  power  Ires 
dv  intakes  of  unity,  and  is  safe  from  personal  attack  by  its  perpetu- 
ity. There  is  no  setting  rid  of  the  race,  however  mischievous  ;  and  the  o  !y 
v  iv  to  keep  the  peace  is  by  putting  down  or  removing  any  one  as  a  public 
nuisance  to  whom  they  h  ive  ;  iken  a  dislike  as  standing  in  the  way  either 
of  their  momentary  caprices  or  permanent  authority.  The  alternative  ia 
no  doubt  a  pleasant  one 


CAMPAIGN    IN    1S09.  449 


me  by  the  King  of  Saxony,  containing  information  that  a  certain 
person  was  to  leave  Stutgard  on  a  particular  day  for  Paris,  where 
he  would  probably  arrive  on  a  day  that  was  pointed  out,  and  that 
his  intentions  were  to  murder  me.  A  minute  description  of  his 
person  was  also  given.  The  police  took  its  measures  ;  and  on 
the  day  pointed  out  he  arrived.  They  had  him  watched.  He 
was  seen  to  enter  my  chapel,  to  which  I  had  gone  on  the  celebra- 
tion of  some  festival.  He  was  arrested  and  examined.  He  con- 
fessed  his  intentions  and  said,  that  when  the  people  knelt  down  en 
the  elevation  of  the  host,  he  saw  me  gazing  at  the  fine  women  ;  at 
first  he  intended  to  advance  and  fire  at  me  (in  fact  he  had  advanced 
near  to  me  at  the  moment)  ;  but  upon  a  little  reflection  thought 
that  would  not  be  sure  enough,  and  he  determined  to  stab  me  with 
a  knife  which  he  had  brought  for  the  purpose.  1  did  not  like  to 
have  him  executed  and  ordered  that  he  should  be  kept  in  prison. 
When  J.  was  no  longer  at  the  head  of  affairs,  this  man,  who  had 
been  detained  in  prison  for  several  months  after  I  had  left  Paris, 
and  ill-treated,  I  believe,  got  his  liberty.  Soon  after,  he  said  that 
his  designs  were  no  longer  to  kill  me  ;  but  that  he  would  murder 
the  King  of  Prussia  for  having  ill-treated  the  Saxons  and  Saxony. 
On  my  return  from  Elba  1  was  to  be  present  at  the  opening  of  the 
Legislative  Body,  which  was  to  be  done  with  great  state  and  cere- 
mony. When  I  went  to  open  the  chamber,  this  same  man,  who 
had  got  in,  fell  down  by  some  accident,  and  a  parcel,  containing 
some  chemical  preparation,  exploded  in  his  pocket,  and  wounded 
him  severely.  It  never  has  been  clearly  ascertained  what  his  in- 
tentions were  at  this  time.  It  caused  great  alarm  amongst  the 
Legislative  Body,  and  he  was  arrested.  I  have  since  heard  that 
he  threw  himself  into  the  Seine." 


END   OF      OL.    II. 


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